


love in a college town

by poetictragedy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Biting, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingerfucking, First Time, Fluff, Hair Pulling, M/M, Marking, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Scratching, bottom!Derek, but just fingering; derek doesn't get fucked, but stiles likes it??, derek is kind of creepy, kissing strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetictragedy/pseuds/poetictragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles gets to college, he thinks it’s going to be hell until he meets his roommate, Scott, and they become instant best friends. He meets a gorgeous Junior in the same day named Derek Hale and he thinks, maybe, college life won’t be so bad after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles hasn’t even been at college for a full day — not even two hours, in fact — and things are already going down the toilet. For instance: he’s dropped several boxes on his foot on the way to his dorm and then he ran into the door, causing him to drop a box on the ground. It exploded and books went everywhere, which caused hell for the people walking through the hall; Stiles swore he could feel them glaring at him and he could feel the judgement rolling off them in waves.

But, Stiles doesn’t give up, not even when he trips going down the stairs, face planting on the pavement. A few people walk around him, whispering and murmuring things that he can’t hear, but he can imagine what they’re saying: ‘Look at that loser! He can’t even walk!’ and ‘Must be a freshman, look at the way he walks!’ 

Three hours — and countless mishaps — later, Stiles has all of the boxes out of his truck and scattered around the room he’s sharing with a boy named Scott. While he waits for his roommate to arrive, Stiles puts his ear buds in and listens to music while he puts things away, crushing box after box once they’re emptied.

Stiles doesn’t know how long he spends putting things away but when his stomach growls, he knows that it was too long. He takes his ear buds out and turns his iPod off, tossing it onto his bed before turning, yelping when he sees a boy standing in the doorway, a grin on his face.

“Um — hi.” Stiles chews on his lower lip, feeling his cheeks burn along with the back of his neck and the tips of his ears; he imagines he must be bright red and he licks across his lip slowly, chuckling nervously. “You must be Scott,” he says, slipping his hands into his back pockets for something to do.

“And you’re Stiles,” Scott says, coming into the room with a hand extended; Stiles pulls one of his own out of his pocket, wipes it on his jeans, and then takes Scott’s hand, shaking it. 

“Stiles would be me; I am definitely Stiles,” he babbles, shaking his head to clear it as Scott drops his hand. “I mean — yeah, I’m Stiles. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, man.” Scott smiles and runs a hand through his almost-but-not-quite black hair, looking around at the mess Stiles made on the floor. “I see you’ve already started moving in,” he observes, turning back to Stiles with a grin.

Stiles’ face burns more and he nods shyly, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry about the mess — I wasn’t sure when you’d be here, so,” he shrugs and lets out a halfhearted chuckle, looking down at the cardboard underneath his feet.

“Nah, it’s cool. Just means I don’t have to feel bad when I make a mess with my own boxes,” Scott responds, giving Stiles a playful wink. “So, where are you from, Stiles?”

“Beacon Hills,” Stiles answers immediately, feeling a swell of pride when he talks about the home he left the night before. “Where’s all your stuff?”

Raising a brow, Scott turns to the door and shrugs. “My parents should be here in a big with the moving truck,” he explains, turning back to Stiles. “So, Stiles? Is that your real name or a nickname?”

“It’s a nickname; my real name is too hard to spell, pronounce, and remember.”

“What is it?” Scott asks and Stiles thinks he’s legitimately interested.

“You don’t wanna know,” he answers, laughing as he drops his hand. “Hey, I was just about to go on the prowl for food, you wanna come with?”

Scott smiles brightly and nods his head. “Yeah, why not?”

They laugh together and Stiles nods, following Scott into the hall, shutting the door behind him. The two boys make their way to the front door and Stiles stops, looking at Scott curiously.

“What?”

“Shouldn’t we wait for your parents?” Stiles asks, slipping his hands into his pockets, shoulders squared as he looks at his new roommate. “I mean, I don’t want them to think you went into your dorm room and someone murdered you,” he adds, chuckling when Scott rolls his eyes.

“I’ll text them and tell ‘em where we’re at. It’ll be fine,” he says, nudging Stiles’ shoulder before going down the stairs, hopping off the bottom one. Stiles follows him slowly and they walk across the parking lot, both of them falling into a comfortable silence as they head to where the cafeteria is. 

When they get closer to the cafeteria, Stiles breaks the silence. “Vampires or werewolves?”

“What are you asking me that for?” Scott asks, slowing down to glance at Stiles.

“Just answer with which one you like more: vampires or werewolves.”

Scott purses his lips and makes a thinking face, shrugging. “They both have their good and bad points. Vampires can’t go out in the sunlight and their kryptonite is garlic… where werewolves can’t touch silver and they turn into freaks once a month, on the best night.”

“You make valid points,” Stiles murmurs, nodding his head slowly.

“But, werewolves are more badass because they’re human  _and_  monster. So, I’ll pick werewolves because they still retain a bit of humanity, where vampires like, are dead but not really.”

Stiles laughs and throws an arm around Scott’s shoulders. “I think we’re going to be best friends,” he says, making the other boy laugh.

“Why’d you ask me that anyway?”

“Because werewolves are like, one of my favourite monsters ever and I wanted to make sure I was rooming with someone who understood me.”

“Do you believe in the Loch Ness Monster?” Scott asks, wrapping his arm around Stiles’ middle as they walk.

Making a face, Stiles lolls his head back and forth and then laughs. “Sometimes I do and other times I think it’s complete bullshit. A thing that big living in a fucking lake? No way, man.”

“Yeah, same,” Scott says, grinning. “Favourite genre of movies?”

“Old school black and white horror or comedy,” Stiles says, laughing. “What about you? Don’t tell me you’re into chick flicks or I may throw up on the sidewalk.”

“I’m not into chick flicks, no,” Scott answers, chuckling between words. “I’m into the same stuff, kind of.”

“Kind of? Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re into snuff films.”

Scott bursts out laughing and pulls Stiles toward the cafeteria door. “No, I’m not into that shit, believe me,” he says, pulling away to open the door. “I’m into those really shitty horror movies that cost like, nothing to make or produce and have the reject actors in them.”

“Oh, so you like B horror movies?” Stiles smirks and steps into the cafeteria, which is filled with people. “Whoa,” he mutters, looking around the room and swallowing hard at the number of people.

“What’s the matter?” Scott comes up behind him and looks around, whistling quietly. “Damn, I didn’t think there’d be this many people in here already,” he says, slapping a hand on Stiles’ back. “Come on, might as well get in line before all the good stuff is gone.”

Stiles nods and lets Scott steer him toward the end of the line, each of them grabbing a tray. They talk nonsense while the line moves and, when it’s their turn, they each pile their tray with food before heading to the register. When Stiles pulls out his wallet to pay, Scott makes a noise and pushes his hands down.

“What, can’t I pay for my own food?”

“It’s on the house,” Scott says, handing the cashier some money, grinning at his roommate. “Call it a ‘I’m glad I have you as a roommate instead of some psycho’ present or whatever.”

Nodding, Stiles puts his wallet back in his pocket and smiles at Scott. “Thanks,” he says, bumping their shoulders together before leading Scott to a nearly empty table in the corner.

They sit down and Stiles starts digging into his food, starting with the mac and cheese first, shoving forkful after forkful into his mouth, hyper aware of Scott’s eyes on him. When he chews and swallows his food, Stiles turns to his friend and raises an eyebrow. “What’re you lookin’ at?”

“You’re like a human vacuum, aren’t you?” Scott asks, staring at Stiles as he shovels the last of the mac and cheese in his mouth, shrugging.

“That’s what my dad says,” Stiles answers, talking around the pasta in his mouth before swallowing. “Plus, I haven’t eaten since this morning and I’m  _starving_.”

Scott laughs and snorts, turning back to his food before picking at the things on his plate, looking around as he eats. After eating more food, Stiles follows suit and glances around the room, noticing a few people that he’d seen earlier that day around the parking lot.

“So, have you met anyone else?” Scott suddenly asks and Stiles turns to look at him, chewing on a piece of chicken, eyebrows knitting together as he shakes his head. “Me either. You were the first person I actually met, if you don’t count running into someone.”

That makes Stiles laugh and he chokes a bit, feeling Scott’s hand on his back almost immediately; his friend hits him on the back until he’s done choking and Stiles waves him off, muttering that he’s alright.

Nodding, Scott looks up and notices someone looking their way. “Hey, do you know that guy over there?” Scott motions with his fork and Stiles’ eyes follow it, glancing at a guy sitting at a table not too far away.

“I’ve never seen him before,” Stiles mutters, licking his lips slowly. “I  _wish_  I knew him, ‘cause he’s pretty fucking cute.”

“You’re gay?” Scott turns and blinks at Stiles, who nods slowly. “Wow, I’ve never known a gay guy before,” he mutters, shaking his head.

Stiles rolls his eyes and laughs, picking up another piece of chicken. “We’re just like regular dudes, except… we like other dudes.” When Scott looks at him with a bit of panic in his eyes, Stiles laughs again and bumps their shoulders together. “I’m not going to touch you in your sleep, don’t worry — you’re safe,” he says, popping another bite of chicken into his mouth.

“Good. I mean — it’s not like I was worried about that, or anything.” Scott babbles a little and Stiles thinks it’s cute in a ‘this guy could totally be my best friend and wing man’ kind of way.

They eat in silence and Stiles occasionally looks up and in the direction of the mystery guy, blushing when their eyes lock. He immediately drops his gaze and grabs his pie, digging into it quickly, making happy moaning noises as he chews, swallowing just when Scott’s phone buzzes.

His friend takes his phone out and frowns, cursing. “It’s my parents,” he explains, sighing as he stands up, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “I’ve gotta get back to the room before they file a missing person’s report.”

“Yeah, go on ahead,” Stiles says, looking up at Scott with a smile. “I’ll meet you back there later; I think I’m gonna explore the campus a bit, see what kind of trouble I can get into.”

“Alright.” Scott nods and grabs his tray, moving away a little before turning back to Stiles. “Shouldn’t take us that long to move my stuff and when we do, I’ll set my PS3 up and we’ll play it all night.”

Stiles smiles and nods, going back to his pie. “Sounds like a plan,” he says, looking at Scott again, making a shooing motion with his fork. Scott laughs and nods, moving away to dump his tray in the trash before leaving the cafeteria, and Stiles finishes his pie.

Once the pie is done, Stiles leans back in his seat and closes his eyes, listening to the people talk around him; he eavesdrops on a few conversations and laughs to himself, rubbing a hand along his stomach. He sits like that for a while, just taking in college life and the atmosphere around him and, soon, he yawns loudly and opens his eyes, nearly yelping when he sees a guy standing in front of his table.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” Stiles asks, eyes roaming up and down the body in front of him, gaze locking in on the dark stubble covering the mystery guy’s sharp jaw.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you. My name is Derek Hale.”

Derek’s voice is rough and Stiles bites his lip, smiling at him. “Nice to meet you,” he says, licking his lip slowly. “My name is Stiles.”

“Stiles?” Derek asks, raising a brow.

“It’s a long story.” Laughing, Stiles motions to the seat beside him that Scott had been sitting in not long ago. “Have a seat, Derek,” he says, smiling brightly.

Nodding his head, Derek drops into the seat and turns it so that he’s facing Stiles instead of just sitting next to him, giving the other boy a smile that makes his heart thud. 

“So, Derek,” Stiles starts, chuckling. “What can I do for you?”

“I saw you come in earlier, with your friend, and I could tell that you were a freshman. Am I correct in assuming that?”

Stiles chuckles and nods, slotting his fingers together, tenting his hands on his stomach as he looks at Derek, trying to keep his heartbeat under control. “You would be correct in assuming that, yes,” he answers, smiling when Derek laughs.

“I’m a Junior and I wanted to let you know that I’m willing to help you in anyway you need, should you need it.” Derek’s sincerity makes Stiles’ heart leap and he swallows thickly, nodding his head slowly as he twiddles his thumbs together.

“That’s very nice of you, Derek, but isn’t it a little creepy to be asking the fresh meat if they need help when you don’t really know them? I mean, I know you’ve been checking me out for a while, but that doesn’t excuse your creepiness.” Stiles speaks in a teasing tone and he thinks, for a moment, that Derek won’t get it… until he sees the older man smile.

“Everyone else seems to be adjusting perfectly fine,” Derek says, dragging sharp canine teeth across his lower lip. “Besides, I saw you in the parking lot in front of the freshman dorms and I think you could use my help, if you want it.”

Stiles wants to bury his face in his hands when he hears Derek say he watched him in the parking lot. He knows that the older man probably saw him wipe out on the pavement and that makes the whole conversation even more embarrassing for him.

Sighing deeply, Stiles chews on his lip and shrugs. “I guess I could use some help, although I’ve already put most of my things up in my dorm,” he says, trying to keep his eyes off Derek’s teeth and lips.

“I could help you put things away if you want. Maybe help get rid of the trash?”

“Are you a vampire?” Stiles blurts out, blushing deeply once he says it.

“Why do you ask that?” Derek laughs, the noise rumbling deep in his chest, and it’s warm and comforting to Stiles, even though he knows that it shouldn’t be.

“Because you’ve got sharp teeth, you’re wearing all black,” Stiles pauses and nods pointedly at Derek’s black leather jacket, black shirt, and black jeans, “and you watch people in the shadows. Either you’re a vampire or some creepy stalker goth dude.”

Laughing again, Derek shakes his head and runs a hand over his jaw. “I’m not a vampire and I’m not — what did you call it? — a creepy stalker goth dude. I’m just a friendly Junior that wants to help his fellow classmates, even if they are younger than he is.”

Stiles narrows his eyes and cocks his head to the side, looking at Derek carefully, trying to figure out what angle he’s trying to play. There’s no way that Derek could know that he’s gay — not unless he has super hearing and overhead his conversation with Scott — so him hitting on Stiles is scratched off the list.

Maybe, Stiles thinks, Derek really is just trying to be friendly after seeing the major wipe out he had earlier that afternoon. Or, maybe he’s someone his dad hired to look after him and he’s really not a college student at all, but some sort of secret spy; that’s more plausible, considering the amount of black clothing Derek has on.

“What game are you trying to play? Are you trying to embarrass me? Because, I can tell you that I embarrass myself plenty on my own, thank you.” Stiles crosses his arms over his chest and gives Derek a look of pride.

“Not trying to play any game,” Derek says, holding his hands up innocently and Stiles sees just how big they are; the size of Derek’s hands and fingers makes him feel warm inside and he shudders. “Just trying to help, but if you don’t want it, I’ll be going.”

Derek stands up and Stiles shakes his head, reaching out to grab his wrist. “No, wait… I’m sorry, okay? I’m just new to this whole college experience and I’m not really used to having strangers offer to do nice things for me,” he explains, batting his eyelashes at Derek, who looks like he’s having a hard time containing a smile.

“So, you’re accepting my creepy offer?”

“I guess so,” Stiles says, shrugging as he drops his hand away from Derek’s wrist, grabbing his tray before standing. “Let me dump this and we’ll go back to my room, alright?”

“Okay,” Derek responds, smiling as he tucks his hands into his jacket pockets.

Stiles huffs and goes to the trash can, dumping his garbage into it before laying his tray on an empty table next to it. He turns to look at Derek and actually yelps when he almost runs into the older man, his heart beating faster than before.

When he calms down, Stiles stares at Derek and sets his jaw. “You’re creepy, do you know that? Just plain creepy,” he mutters, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“I’ve heard it before.” Derek rolls a shoulder and smiles at Stiles. “Lead the way to your dorm,” he says, swiping a hand toward the door before returning it back to his jacket pocket.

“Oh shit!” Stiles pulls a hand out of his pocket and slaps it against his face. “I forgot that Scott’s parents were helping him get his things in the room, so they probably won’t be done for a while.”

Derek’s eyebrows knit together, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening. “Okay, so we’ll go back to my place and wait for them to get done?”

“Your… place,” Stiles says, licking his lips slowly. “How do I know you won’t take advantage of me once we’re there?”

“Do I look like that kind of guy?”

Stiles thinks about it and comes to the conclusion that no, Derek doesn’t look like someone who would do that but his father always taught him to be cautious of every single person he met. Sheriff Stilinski was good about drilling information into his mind and that piece of information always stuck.

“My dad’s a cop.” That comes out of nowhere and Stiles smiles innocently.

Derek blinks and chuckles. “You’ll be fine,” he promises, rolling his shoulders back.

“I guess so.” Chewing on his lip, Stiles sighs and runs his hand over his hair, feeling how long it’s getting; he makes a mental note to get it cut before it grows any more. “And, just so you know, I have a blood curdling scream. So if you do anything, everyone will hear me.”

“I believe you.” Derek laughs and stalks off toward the door, leaving Stiles behind to stare at his broad shoulders, eyes roaming down his body slowly. He stays rooted in his spot until Derek disappears through the door before coming back in, raising a brow at Stiles, giving him a ‘come hither’ look.

It takes Stiles a few seconds but, eventually, he gets his legs to working and he walks over to the door, stepping outside. The sun is setting and it casts an orange glow over everything that makes Stiles shiver, thinking about how, just twenty four hours ago, he was in the comfort of his own home, having one last meal with his father.

Derek starts walking toward the parking lot and Stiles runs to catch up, walking in an easy stride next to Derek, who’s eyes are straight ahead. They don’t talk until they get to the parking lot and Stiles asks what kind of car Derek drives, getting an answer in the form of Derek’s thumb pointing to a sleek black Camaro.

“Damn,” Stiles says, drawing the ‘a’ out as he stares at the brand new car, licking his lips slowly. Okay, so Derek is a hot upperclassman who drives a brand fucking new Camaro that’s as black as his clothes. That’s not weird or hot at all, nope.

“It’s nothing special,” Derek says like it really isn’t and Stiles gapes at him, blinking his eyes a few times, shaking his head. “Get in,” he commands, pointing to the passenger side and Stiles goes around, opening the door before sliding into the seat, nearly moaning at the way it feels. 

“Okay, if you’re going to murder me, at least I’ll die happy.” Stiles closes his eyes and nuzzles his head back against the seat, reveling in the softness as Derek turns the engine on. It roars to life and Stiles groans, biting his lip down and blushing, opening his eyes to look at Derek, who’s grinning at him. “What? Can’t a kid appreciate the look, feel, and sound of a Camaro?”

Derek rolls his eyes and puts the car in reverse, pulling out of his spot. “Sure, but not too many people act like that when they get into my car for the first time.”

“I lived a sheltered life,” Stiles says, shrugging as he grabs his seat belt, snapping it into place. “I’ve never seen one of these in real life, except for this one time my dad took me to the beach and we passed one on the way.”

“What’s your dad like?” Derek asks as he pulls out onto the road, glancing at Stiles.

Shrugging, Stiles looks at Derek and sighs. “My dad is great but overprotective, you know? I think it’s because he’s a dad  _and_ a cop, so it’s like, double duty or something.”

“And your mom?”

“My mom’s dead,” Stiles says, the words falling from his lips quickly and he swallows thickly, turning to stare out the window. “She died when I was younger but, from what I can remember, she was amazing. Beautiful, funny, smart, talented, and she was my best friend, even though I already had a best friend.”

Derek goes quiet for a moment as he drives, biting his lip. “I’m sorry about your mom, Stiles,” he says, voice soft.

“It’s alright, I’m mostly okay with it, you know? But sometimes I think about her and I get so… frustrated because I can barely remember her, so my dad tells me stories about her and it makes it okay.” Stiles sighs deeply and looks down at his hands, folding them on his lap. “What about your parents?”

“Dead,” Derek answers, shrugging a shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Stiles whispers, looking up at Derek quietly. 

Glancing at Stiles, Derek smiles and shrugs again. “Thanks, but it’s fine; my uncle took care of me and my sister until we were old enough to go to college. He has a lot of money, so he bought a house for us to live in when we’re off,” he says, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

“And he bought you a Camaro,” Stiles points out, trying to smile.

“And he bought me a Camaro, yes.” Derek smiles and pulls into the parking lot of an apartment complex, pulling into a spot near the front door. He shuts the car off and pulls the keys out of the ignition before getting out.

Stiles follows suit and scrambles to get out of the car, shutting the door behind him before straightening his clothes. He walks around the front of the Camaro and joins Derek there, following him to the staircase quietly.

On the way up to Derek’s apartment, Stiles follows behind him and checks his ass out in his tight jeans, biting down on his lip every time he sees it jiggle. He wants to reach out and grab Derek’s ass but refrains, keeping his hands at his sides until they stop at the top of the stairs. 

“What’s up, Derek?” Someone calls out and Derek turns in the direction of the voice, smiling. 

“Not much, Jackson,” he answers, moving toward the other guy. “Where’s Danny?”

Another guy comes up behind Jackson and stands next to him, smiling. “Long time no see, man,” Danny says, flicking his gaze to Stiles. “Hey, I’m Danny.”

“I’m Stiles,” Stiles says, swallowing thickly. “Nice to meet you,” he adds, as an afterthought, nodding his head toward Danny and Jackson.

“This is my friend, Stiles.” Derek motions toward Stiles and then waves a hand toward the two men in front of him. “Stiles, this is Danny and Jackson, two of my asshole friends that just so happen to live down the hall from me.”

Jackson scoffs at the insult and punches Derek in the arm. “Who are you calling an asshole, Hale?”

“You are kind of a bitch,” Danny comments, stepping away when Jackson moves to pull him into a headlock, both of them laughing. “I’m just kidding! You’re not a total asshole,” he says, turning to smile at Stiles. “He’s not an asshole, though he looks like a complete douchebag.”

Stiles chuckles nervously and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “So you guys are juniors too?”

“Yep,” Jackson answers, turning to Stiles so that he can see the freckles on the other boy’s face. “What about you?”

“Freshman,” Stiles admits, feeling his cheeks burn once again.

Danny and Jackson share a look before turning back to Derek, who glares at them and Stiles thinks he can hear the older man growl. It makes his body tingle and he shudders, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck.

“It was nice meeting you, Stiles.” Danny smiles and grabs Jackson by the elbow, steering him toward the stairs, making their way around Derek and Stiles. “I’m sure we’ll see you again.”

Stiles turns and watches them go down the stairs, nodding. “Nice to meet you too,” he calls out, watching Jackson and Danny disappear before turning to Derek, raising an eyebrow. “What was that all about?”

“Nothing, just Danny and Jackson being assholes.” Derek laughs and shrugs as he turns to walk down the hall, stopping in front of a door; he unlocks it and pushes it open, disappearing into the apartment. 

After a moment of hesitation, Stiles follows Derek inside and shuts the door behind him, looking around the apartment slowly, whistling at how clean it is; Stiles would have guessed Derek was messy or at least had a messy roommate.

“Where’s your roommate?” He asks, looking at Derek finally, watching as he peels his leather jacket off, tossing it onto the couch before turning to lock eyes with Stiles.

“I don’t have one,” Derek says, just like that, before going to the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”

Stiles swallows hard and follows Derek slowly, nodding. “Sure, can I have a beer?”

“Are you twenty one?”

“No,” Stiles answers, scowling at Derek until he turns around, two beer bottles in his hand. “But you’re going to give me one anyway?”

Shrugging, Derek comes forward and hands a beer to Stiles. “It’s not like I’m getting you drunk; it’s one beer, I’m sure it’s not going to hurt you.”

“But Sheriff Stilinski could hurt you for giving his child beer.” Stiles smirks when Derek rolls his eyes and grabs the beer before he can take it away, twisting the cap off. “And thanks,” he adds, before taking a sip from the bottle, turning to move to the couch.

“No problem.” Twisting the cap off his own bottle, Derek follows Stiles and sits on the couch, kicking his shoes off before stretching his legs, laying them on the coffee table.

Stiles stares at those long legs and licks his lips slowly. “That’s rude, you know,” he says, pointing his bottle at Derek’s legs, looking up at him with a grin.

“It’s my apartment,” Derek counters, grinning back.

“Touche.” Stiles laughs and takes another sip of his beer, sighing. “So, do you normally lure young, innocent freshmen back to your apartment and offer them beer or am I the first?”

“You’re the first.”

Raising a brow, Stiles turns to glance at Derek, smiling. “At least I’m popping your freshman kidnapping cherry,” he jokes, taking another pull from his bottle, watching as Derek’s eyes flick down to his mouth.

“So, tell me more about you,” Derek says, settling back against the couch, setting his bottle between his legs, his eyes on Stiles’ face, watching him intently.

“I’m a lacrosse player,” Stiles says, pursing his lips as he thinks. “I have a best friend at home and her name is Lydia; when I was in elementary school, we got married in my garage and I’m pretty sure we’re still married to this day.”

Derek laughs and the noise makes Stiles feel hot all over. “That’s cute,” he says, dragging his teeth along his lower lip, looking at Stiles like he wants to eat him or jump on him — either way, Stiles would be happy.

“Our parents thought so. My dad - and her parents - used to tease us about it all our lives and said that we’d probably end up married right out of high school anyway.” Shrugging, Stiles takes another sip from his bottle, chasing the taste of beer on his lips. “We laughed it off and didn’t take it to heart because she became more like a sister to me,” he adds, looking at Derek.

“Still cute,” Derek says, winking playfully.

Stiles rolls his eyes and laughs. “Anyway, we couldn’t have dated because we’re both into dudes,” he says, throwing the ‘I’m gay’ card out nonchalantly.

“You’re gay?” 

“Why? Don’t I give off the gay vibe?”

Derek shrugs and laughs quietly. “Not really, especially if you played lacrosse.”

“Lacrosse is a very gay sport, with sticks and balls!” Stiles smirks and leans back on the couch, sighing heavily.

“What’s your dad think about it, you being gay?”

“He’s supportive, I guess,” Stiles answers, looking down at his beer bottle as he starts ripping the label off. “I mean, he was upset for a while because I wouldn’t give him grandkids, but we talked about it and he’s fine.”

“That’s good,” Derek mumbles, his voice quiet.

Biting his lip, Stiles nods slowly and chuckles. “Guess so. I went on a date with this one guy in senior year and my dad threatened him with a gun,” he says, tearing the label off his bottle, tossing the paper onto the cushion between Derek and himself.

“Protective fathers are good.” Stiles looks up when he hears Derek talk and smiles, nodding slowly. “My uncle was never the same way,” Derek says, sighing heavily as he drops his legs, leaning forward to set his beer on the table. “He never wanted to meet any of my boyfriends or Laura’s.”

Wait — did Derek say  _boyfriends_? Stiles blinks at him and opens his mouth to say something before closing it, pursing his lips together, collecting his thoughts. “Did you say boyfriends?”

“Yeah, why?” Derek asks, quirking a brow.

“Did you overhear my conversation with Scott when I told him I was gay? Is that really why you came over to me because, wow, how did you do that?” Stiles is babbling and a voice in the back of his head is telling him to shut up, but he doesn’t listen. “I mean, I’ve heard of people that have like, super awesome hearing, but I was across the room!”

Derek’s looking at Stiles like he’s nuts, his forehead furrowing. “I didn’t hear any conversation,” he admits, chuckling at Stiles when his face falls and he starts blushing, crimson creeping along his cheeks. “I thought it was a long shot, but I decided to try it anyway, figuring if you weren’t gay, we could at least be friends.”

“So, you did bring me here to take advantage of me,” Stiles groans, tipping his head back against the top of the couch. “I’m going to lose my virginity to a gorgeous guy who’s probably a vampire.”

“I’m not a vampire,” Derek says, biting back a laugh. “And I’m not going to take advantage of you; if you don’t want me, I’ll sit right here,” he pauses, scooting over so his side is pressed against the arm of the couch, “and I won’t even look at you in the wrong way, deal?”

Stiles looks at Derek and purses his lips, nodding. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t like being taken advantage of by a gorgeous possible-vampire,” he says, grinning at Derek.

“Are you going to always call me a vampire?”

“Until I can prove otherwise, yes,” Stiles says, sticking his tongue out at Derek.

“Fair enough.” With a laugh, Derek settles against the couch and closes his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. Stiles watches him, letting his gaze follow the line of Derek’s neck, swallowing thickly as thoughts of leaning in and biting it flood his mind.

Scooting closer, Stiles sets his half empty beer on the table and clears his throat, watching as Derek’s eyes flutter open, his head turning until their eyes lock. “So, hypothetically, what if I were to take advantage of you?”

“I’d allow it,” Derek says, smiling softly. “Why — do you plan on taking advantage of me?”

“I said hypothetically, which means —”

“I know what it means,” Derek interrupts, grinning when Stiles rolls his eyes. “And I was asking the same thing — hypothetically, would you take advantage of me?”

Stiles purses his lips together and scoots closer, shrugging. “Maybe, if I was into having my way with a tall, gorgeous man.”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me gorgeous.”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” Stiles says, blushing as he chews his lip. “But, if it means anything at all, you are extremely sexy.”

Derek lifts a brow and grins. “Sexy. That’s a new one,” he murmurs, licking across his lips slowly, extending a hand to Stiles, long fingers stretched out toward him. “And you are too. Your eyes especially, they were what first drew me in.”

“You’re joking,” Stiles mutters, looking down at Derek’s hand, licking his lips slowly before flicking his gaze up, settling his eyes on the older man’s. “If anyone here has gorgeous eyes, it’s you.”

“Have you  _seen_  your eyes, Stiles?” Stiles shakes his head and Derek laughs, taking one of his hands, thumbing across his knuckles slowly. “They’re nice,” he whispers, moving his fingers across the back of Stiles’ hand before dropping his own.

Huffing, Stiles moves closer and gets into Derek’s personal space. “Thanks,” he says, licking his lips again as he leans in, brushing his mouth against Derek’s. He shudders when he feels hot breath falling against his lips and closes his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose.

Stiles has only kissed three guys in his life and he could be what you would consider a kissing novice, but he doesn’t want Derek to know that. So, Stiles presses their lips together and kisses Derek slowly, lifting a hand before placing it against the side of Derek’s neck. He breathes evenly through his nose even when he feels a hand on the back of his head and he tries to focus on what he’s doing and the way Derek’s tongue swipes across his lower lip.

The kiss doesn’t last long and it ends with Stiles pulling away, huffing against Derek’s lips as he brushes the pad of his thumb against the older man’s jaw. He blinks his eyes open and settles them on Derek’s face, shuddering when he feels rough stubble sliding underneath his skin.

“That was nice,” Derek whispers, moving his hand down the back of Stiles’ head, cupping the nape of his neck. “Your first kiss?”

“No,” Stiles says, but it feels like a lie and Derek’s looking at him like it is. “I’ve kissed a few other guys, don’t be so smug.”

Derek grins and licks his lips, leaning in to kiss Stiles again, sucking on his lower lip lightly before biting it. He nips and sucks and licks at Stiles’ lips before kissing him deeply, pushing him against the back of the couch, throwing a leg over his hips, straddling him.

And Stiles’ head is spinning and he thinks he’s dreaming; he gets the feeling like he’s back in Beacon Hills, in his bedroom with a hand on his dick, dreaming about some gorgeous, rough guy kissing him. When he feels Derek’s teeth sink onto his lip, sharp canines nearly breaking the skin, Stiles realizes that it’s not a dream and he moans, canting his hips up.

The hand on Derek’s neck goes around and Stiles gets a fistful of Derek’s hair, tugging and pulling at it, trying to pull him closer when there’s no space between them. Kissing Derek is maddening and Stiles wants more, wants to taste more of him and he wants to feel the sharp burn of Derek’s stubble scrape across his own smooth skin over and over.

When Derek pulls away, he gasps and licks his lips, smiling. “Damn,” he mutters, moving his hands down Stiles’ sides, resting them just above his hips.

“Why’d you  _stop_?” Stiles whines, blinking his eyes open, staring at Derek, pouting.

“Because I don’t want this to go too fast? I just met you, Stiles, I’m not about to fuck you when I don’t know that much about you.” As Derek talks, he lifts a hand and touches Stiles’ cheek, smiling. “Want me to take you back to your dorm? Your roommate is probably wondering where you are.”

Stiles closes his eyes and licks his bottom lip. “You want me to ride in a car with you while I’m hard and expect me  _not_  to jump you?”

“Yes,” Derek says, laughing.

“Why?”

“Because that would cause me to wreck.” 

Stiles opens his mouth to say something but Derek kisses him, forcing him to forget about anything he was going to say. He closes his eyes again, tangling his fingers in Derek’s hair and giving it a tug, eliciting a moan from the man on his lap.

This kiss is short and sweet and when Derek pulls away, he licks across Stiles’ bottom lip and grins. “Maybe,” he starts, cupping Stile’s jaw lightly, “we can go out and get to know each other, before this escalates into sex.”

“You want to go out with a loser freshman?” Stiles asks, raising an eyebrow as he leans into Derek’s touch, sighing a little when he feels rough skin sliding against his own.

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

Stiles huffs and moves his hands to either side of Derek’s neck. “Because I’m eighteen, fresh out of high school, and I’m kind of immature? Not to mention the whole virgin thing, or did you not hear my offer that information to you on a silver platter?”

“I don’t care about any of that.” Derek laughs and Stiles can the vibration against his hands. “And, why would you want to go out with me? I’m apparently a creepy stalker who may — or may not — be a vampire.”

“I can deal with the vampire thing,” Stiles says, smiling. “And the creepy stalker thing — even the ‘Derek wears only black’ thing.”

Derek frowns and leans down, kissing Stiles again. “I don’t always wear black,” he whispers, lips moving against Stiles’. “In fact — the briefs I’m wearing right now? They’re a pale blue.”

“And now I’m thinking about you in your briefs,” Stiles complains, letting his head fall back as he groans. “Thanks for that, Derek. Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” Derek laughs again and slides of Stiles’ lap, standing up in front of the couch with his hands extended to Stiles, a smile on his face. “Come on, let me take you back to your dorm and we’ll do this properly.”

Stiles takes Derek’s hands and stands up, sighing. “Alright, but I’m not responsible for any sudden dry humping I do,” he says, cracking a smile when Derek laughs again.

“Deal.” Grabbing his shoes, Derek slips them on and then grabs his jacket, leading Stiles to the door, opening it for him. He waits for Stiles to step out into the hallway before following him, locking the door behind them, slipping a hand onto the small of Stiles’ back.

“Hey, I have a question.” Stiles turns to look at Derek, stopping him when they get to the stairs, pressing a hand against his chest.

“Shoot.”

Licking his lips, Stiles looks down the hall and smiles. “Danny and Jackson, are they together, or are they just really close friends?”

“They’re best friends. Why would you think they’re together?”

“Just had a feeling, that’s all,” Stiles mumbles, shrugging as he goes down the stairs, Derek on his heels the entire time. He steps off the bottom stair and shivers, wrapping both arms around him, teeth chattering a little. 

Derek holds his jacket out to Stiles and smiles. “Here, wear it.”

“Are you sure?” Stiles blinks at the jacket and takes it when Derek nods, assuring him that it’s okay and that he’ll get it back from him some other time. “Thanks,” he says, smiling at the older man as he shrugs into the leather jacket, the ends of the sleeves hanging past his hands.

“You look good in it,” Derek offers, smiling.

“It’s a little big.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m bigger than you.”

Stiles scoffs and throws Derek a playful glare as he moves to the passenger side of the car, opening the door before sliding into the seat. “I’m a normal height and build for my age, thanks,” he says once Derek’s in the car.

“I’m sure you are,” Derek says, turning the car on before glancing at Stiles. “I don’t mind it, you know, you being small.”

“I’m not  _small_! You’re just freakishly tall with broad shoulders,” Stiles mumbles, settling back against the seat when Derek pulls out and heads toward the road, pulling onto it.

They get onto the road and Derek heads toward campus, staying quiet, glancing at Stiles occasionally, smiling when he catches him looking back. He drives under the speed limit and Stiles doesn’t complain, just watches Derek and snuggles down into the jacket, sighing.

All in all, Stiles’ first day at college hasn’t gone too badly and he smiles, thinking of things to tell his dad the next time he calls him. Stiles gets wrapped up in his own thoughts and the smell of Derek’s cologne coming from the jacket, that he doesn’t even realize they’re at his dorm, until Derek nudges him.

“We’re here,” he says, smiling at Stiles.

“Already?” Stiles whines, turning to look at his dorm.

Derek nods and keeps smiling. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in it.”

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that!” Laughing, Stiles grabs his phone from his pocket and hands it to Derek, watching as he taps his thumbs against the screen quickly, punching his number in before handing the phone back. “I’ll text you when I’m in, that way you’ll have my number.”

“Sounds good to me.” Derek smiles again and leans over, kissing Stiles’ lips softly before pulling away, dragging his tongue along his teeth, pushing it against one of his incisors. 

Stiles swallows and fumbles with the door handle, getting it open after a moment of struggling before stumbling out of the car. “See you later,” he says, sticking his head back into the car, flashing Derek one last smile before shutting the door.

He steps away and waves, watching Derek pull away before heading across the parking lot, waiting until he’s disappeared before turning and walking up the stairs, heading to the front door. When he gets inside, Stiles smiles and walks down the hall, nodding at a few random people as he passes, stopping at his door.

Walking into his room, Stiles looks toward Scott, who’s laying on the middle of his bed, and smiles shyly, biting at his lip as he shuts the door behind him. He crosses the room and sits down on his bed, sighing heavily as he lifts a hand, scratching the back of his neck.

“Hey, where’d you disappear to?” Scott asks, turning over onto his side to look at Stiles, noticing the jacket. “And where did  _that_ come from?”

Stiles blushes and looks down at the sleeves covering his hand. “You know that guy that was looking at us earlier in the cafeteria?” Scott nods and Stiles huffs before continuing, “Well, he approached me and introduced himself and we got to talking…”

“Dude, you didn’t!”

“Didn’t  _what_?” Stiles asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Have sex with him,” Scott explains, eyes narrowed.

Laughing, Stiles shakes his head and folds his hands on his lap. “No, I didn’t, but we talked and he invited me to his place since your parents were here, helping you.. and we did kind of kiss.”

“You don’t even know him!”

“I know enough,” Stiles argues, biting his lip. “Plus, Derek’s really nice.”

“Derek?” Scott asks, raising a brow.

“Yeah, Derek Hale. Why?”

Scott scoffs and shakes his head, falling back on his bed. “I heard people talking about him, that’s all,” he answers, staring at the ceiling with his hands folded on his stomach.

“What did they say?” Stiles asks, curious.

“Just that he’s kind of a big deal around here. His uncle apparently donated money toward getting a better library.”

Blowing out a breath, Stiles shakes his head. “What else?”

“Nothing much,” Scott says, turning his head to look at Stiles. “Everyone says that he’s the ‘big man’ on campus and that everyone wants him.”

Everyone. Of course everyone would want him; why wouldn’t they?

“Well,” Stiles says, yawning loudly. “I think I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Me too, I’m tired after moving all my shit in.”

Stiles laughs and nods, peeling Derek’s jacket off before laying it across his bed, standing to kick his shoes off. “Guess I’ll have to finish unpacking tomorrow,” he mutters, taking his shirt off, tossing it onto the floor.

“Actually,” Scott says, grinning. “I met this girl down the hall — her name is Allison — and I told her that we might be up for hanging out with her tomorrow.”

“So I wasn’t the only one that caught the bug today.” Stiles grins and undoes his jeans, shimmying out of the quickly, kicking them away as he goes to turn the light off. “And that sounds good to me,” he says, making his way back to the bed before stopping to grab his phone out of his pocket.

Scott laughs and yawns. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

“Night, Scott.” Stiles smiles and climbs into bed, sending a quick text to Derek before setting his phone on the nightstand. He settles back against the mattress and yawns loudly, running a hand down his face as he closes his eyes.

Stiles falls asleep thinking about Derek and the upcoming semester, any worry or doubt he might have had fading away when he thinks about Derek and the kisses they shared. In Stiles’ mind, college life isn’t so scary and maybe it’ll even be fun half of the time, so long as he doesn’t fail any classes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally updated this fic and I may end up writing a third chapter, I don't know. Watch out, I guess?
> 
> I also apologize for any mistakes you find. I'm kind of shitty about catching things before publishing them. :c

It’s a quiet Friday afternoon and Stiles is spending it with Scott, the two of them playing Call of Duty on the floor while Allison lays on one of the beds, flipping through her French textbook. She’s humming a song to herself and giggles whenever one of the boys curses the television, proclaiming that she could do a better job than Stiles, who had just gotten himself and Scott killed for the third time.

“Then maybe  _you_  can help with this mission,” Stiles grumbles and holds the controller out to Allison, waving it a little until she takes it from him, tossing her book onto the mattress. “I need to start studying anyway.”

Allison slides off the bed and sits on the other side of Scott. “Aren’t you and Derek going out tonight?”

A blush creeps along Stiles’ cheeks as he pushes himself onto his feet and goes over to his bed, falling down onto it with a sigh. It’s been two months since he and Derek started seeing each other and Stiles still has the same reaction whenever he thinks about them going out. He still feels like he’s in a dream and that he’s going to wake up one day to realize that he’s not dating Derek but some average guy back in Beacon Hills.

“Yeah,” he answers, finally, and licks his lips, reaching over to grab his backpack from the end of the bed. “I don’t know if we’re going to go  _out_ out but… we have plans. Derek won’t tell me anything about them, though.”

“Mysterious,” Scott comments as he loads up another game and leans against Allison a little, turning to look at Stiles. “Do I need to wait up for you tonight or are you going to stay at Derek’s?”

Stiles’ ears go hot at that comment and he rolls his lower lip between his teeth, opening his bag to grab his English book, tossing it onto his pillow. “I don’t know if we’re to that point,” he admits and shoves his bag back down to the end of the mattress.

“Wait — you two haven’t had sex yet?” Allison sounds surprised, almost, and that only makes Stiles blush harder, ducking his head as he plays with the inseam of his jeans. “Oh my god, Stiles!”

“He wanted to wait, okay, and I agreed because we’re still getting to know each other even if I think he knows me better than anyone.” Stiles says that all in one breath and huffs, reaching for his textbook again, pulling it onto his lap. “Besides, I’ve never had sex before and I think Derek’s waiting for the right time.”

Scott snorts and turns his attention back to the game, fingers tapping against the controller, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration. “Or maybe he doesn’t want to  have sex with you,” he says, after a moment, and yelps when Allison smacks his arm.

The three of them go silent after Scott’s comment and the only noise that fills the dorm room is the sound of gunshots coming from the television. Stiles doesn’t like the silence, however, because it makes his mind wander and he ends up thinking about what Scott had said. What if Derek _doesn’t_  want to have sex with him and just doesn’t know how to break it to him?

Panic starts to set in and Stiles looks to where his friends are sitting on the floor, both of them concentrating on the television and their game. He tries to push all of his thoughts out of his mind, tries to tamp down the feeling of panic and worry, but it’s hard when he’s sitting in a room with two of  _the most_ disgustingly cute people in the world. It also doesn’t help that Scott and Allison have a  _lot_  of sex and Stiles has had the unfortunate pleasure of walking on on them several times.

When it becomes too much to handle, Stiles puts his textbook away and grabs his phone, laying back on the pillows as he scrolls through his contacts. Part of him wants to message Lydia and see what she thinks about everything but he moves up to Derek’s name and just stares at it, sighing. He brings up a message and taps his fingers against the screen.

**[To: Derek]**  Hey, when are we meeting up tonight?

Stiles reads the message a few times before sending it and then he lays his phone on the middle of his chest, tapping his fingers against the back of it. He stares at the ceiling and waits, listening to the noises Scott and Allison are making, along with the sounds coming from the game. It does nothing to help him calm down and, in fact, it just makes things worse and Stiles is on edge when his phone beeps a moment later.

**[To: Stiles]**  Right now, if you want. I can come pick you up.

**[To: Derek]**  No, that’s fine, I’ll drive myself. See you in a few minutes.

“I’m heading to Derek’s,” Stiles announces as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed, narrowly missing kicking Scott in the head. He laughs and mumbles a quiet apology before standing.

Scott scoffs and pauses the game, ignoring Allison’s protests. “It’s fine. You probably wouldn’t have hurt me anyway,” he says and taps the top of his head, grinning. “I’ve got a hard head.”

“I know. Do you  _know_  how many times he’s hit his head on the wall when we’ve —” Allison starts but Stiles interrupts her.

“ _Oh my god_ , I don’t need to know what you two are doing when he hits his head on the wall!”

Blushing, Allison bites her lower lip and then mumbles, “Oops.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t put a dent in it,” Scott says, like it’s nothing, and Stiles puts both hands over his ears as he walks behind his friends, maybe bumping his knee against the back of Scott’s head in passing.

When he’s at the door, Stiles drops his hands and turns, opening his mouth to say something when his phone buzzes in his hand. He closes his mouth and taps the screen, opening a message from Derek that says “ _bring clothes for the whole weekend_ ” and Stiles nearly throws the phone onto the floor when he reads that.

“Holy shit,” he breathes and blinks, looking at Scott when he turns around, his eyebrows lifting in an expression that asks,  _what’s going on?_  ”I think Derek just kind of said he’d like for me to stay at his apartment all weekend.”

Scott’s eyes go wide and he chuckles before saying, “That’s great, man! What are you waiting for, go be with your boyfriend so you can  _finally_  lose your v-card.”

“V-card?” Allison asks and scoffs before turning to look at Stiles, smiling brightly. “I think it’s great that he wants you to stay and maybe you’ll finally get to have sex with him.”

“I hope so.” Stiles grins and moves to his dresser, grabbing a couple shirts before tossing them onto the bed. He opens another drawer and pulls out a few pairs of jeans, throwing them aimlessly before picking out three pairs of boxers, not entirely sure how many he’ll need. Once that’s done, he goes over to his bed and dumps everything out of his book bag, stuffing his clothes into it. “What else do I need?”

Allison abandons her game with Scott in favor of helping Stiles pack his things and she makes a list of items he’ll need for the weekend. When she says something, Stiles picks it up and shoves it into his bag, his hand shaking more and more with each passing moment.

To say that Stiles is nervous would be an understatement. He’s so nervous and anxious that he thinks he may throw up, even expresses his concerns to his friends, and Allison gives him a pack of gum in case he does throw up on the way to Derek’s. 

When he’s got everything packed neatly, Stiles zips the bag up and slings it over one of his shoulders, looking between Allison and Scott, both of them wishing him good luck before shoving him out into the hall.

Before they shut the door, Scott calls out to Stiles, “And if you’re coming back early, text me! Don’t come barging in here because we may be doing something you don’t want to see.”

Stiles makes a face and laughs quietly, nodding his head quickly. “I’ll be sure and do that,” he says before moving down the hall and going outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air. That calms him down a little and he goes down the stairs, heading across the parking lot to his truck.

The drive to Derek’s apartment building is filled with a lot of nervous tapping on the steering wheel and, thankfully, no throwing up. He parks between Jackson’s Porsche and Derek’s Camaro, staring out the windshield before he finally shuts the engine off, getting out of the cab carefully. 

With his bag thrown over one of his shoulders, Stiles makes his way up the stairs and swallows thickly, stopping a few yards away from Derek’s apartment. He opens the pack of gum, fumbling with the flap for a second before finally getting it up, and takes a piece out, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth. Chewing the gum is a distraction that Stiles is thankful for and he makes a mental note to text Allison later, thanking her for giving it to him.

Feeling a little better than he did before, Stiles bridges the gap between himself and Derek’s door, knocking lightly on it, bouncing slightly as he waits. He can hear more than one person inside, swallows thickly, and forces himself to calm down when Danny answers the door, smiling so brightly that his dimples are set deep into his cheeks.

“Come on in,” he says and Stiles nods, spitting his gum out and tossing it behind him before following the older boy into the apartment where Derek is sitting on the couch with Jackson, both of them looking at the same textbook. Danny shuts the door and comes up behind Stiles, putting a hand on his shoulder before squeezing it lightly. “We’re just finishing up some homework and it won’t take long, I promise, then Jacks and I will leave you two alone.”

Stiles gives a nervous chuckle when Danny lets go of his shoulder and he watches him join the other two on the couch, all three of them diving into a conversation that Stiles is only half paying attention to. He comes over and sits down in a chair closest to Derek, laying his bag on the floor beside him, leaning back with a quiet hum, looking around carefully while the other guys talk.

Ten minutes later, Danny and Jackson are standing up, shoving stuff into their bags before throwing them over their shoulders. Each of them say goodbye to Derek and Stiles, waving to both of them as they leave, Jackson’s lips curved into a smirk when he tells them to have fun. 

“Sorry about them. They came over after I texted you and needed my input on a project we’re doing together,” Derek says and turns to look at Stiles, dragging the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, holding a hand out. “You going to stay over there all night or am I going to have to come to you?”

Blushing, Stiles stands up and toes out of his shoes, kicking them away. “I was waiting for an invitation,” he answers and slides his palm against Derek’s, his fingertips brushing along the other man’s wrist lightly. He goes to sit down on the couch next to his boyfriend but, instead, is pulled down onto Derek’s lap, strong hands gripping his hips tightly.

“I thought them leaving  _was_  an invitation.” Smiling, Derek leans up and kisses Stiles gently, moving a hand up the length of his spine, splaying it between his shoulders as he licks at the younger man’s lips. Stiles shivers in response and loops his arms around Derek’s neck, pressing himself closer as he folds his legs on either side of his boyfriend’s thighs. 

The kiss is slow and passionate and gentle, Derek’s tongue pressing against Stiles’ as softly as possible and it has him shuddering, opening his mouth to gasp into the kiss. Derek always has this effect on Stiles and he wants more, wants his boyfriend to be a little rougher, and decides to be the one that pushes it further.

Hesitantly, Stiles lifts a hand to the back of Derek’s head and cards his fingers through the soft, dark locks slowly. He grabs a handful of hair and tugs Derek closer, claiming his mouth in a kiss that’s rough and full of teeth, Stiles’ tongue pressing against the older man’s harder than ever.

When Derek pulls away, a moment later, he’s gasping and his eyes are screwed shut, hands roaming along Stiles’ body as he chuckles quietly. “Wow,” he breathes and Stiles can feel his face, neck, and ears heat up just from the sound of Derek’s voice.

“Is — was that okay?”

“Yeah,” Derek answers and swallows, leaning in to brush his nose along the curve of Stiles’ jaw, breathing against his skin. “It was more than okay.”

Stiles tips his head to the side and gasps quietly when Derek bites down on the side of his neck, dragging sharp teeth along his pulse. He curses and tugs the other man’s hair a little harder, scratching his scalp lightly, keeping Derek where he is, mumbling soft encouragements.

A breathless chuckle leaves Derek’s throat and he nuzzles against Stiles before kissing up to his ear, taking the lobe between his teeth. He bites and sucks on the skin before letting go when Stiles whimpers loudly, his ass rolling down against Derek’s lap and he rolls right back, groaning.

“Fuck, Derek,  _please_.” Stiles turns his head and presses his face against Derek’s hair, breathing harshly as he rolls his hips down again, grinding roughly against the man underneath him. His body feels like it’s on fire and he wants to say fuck it to whatever they were going to do that night and  _beg_  Derek to fuck him on the couch.

When Stiles grinds against him, Derek moves his hands down and grabs his ass, pulling the other man against him as he thrusts his hips up. He breathes heavily and mouths at Stiles’ jaw before turning to kiss him roughly, maneuvering both of them so that they’re laying on the cushions. Once he’s got Stiles underneath him, Derek presses into him roughly and bites at his lower lip, sucking it between his before letting it go, dropping down to kiss across the front of his throat.

The hand in Derek’s hair tugs harder and Stiles throws a leg over his waist, his heel sliding down the back of Derek’s thigh as he tips his head back. “I thought —  _fuck_  — we were going out,” he says and blushes when he hears - and feels - Derek laugh against his skin. 

“We can if you want,” is the reply Stiles gets and he shakes his head, lifting himself so that his hips are pressed tightly against Derek’s. “Or we can go out later.”

“Yeah, later. Later sounds good.”

Derek pulls away and holds himself above Stiles, licking his lips slowly. “Are you sure you want to do this right now? I mean… I planned on this happening later tonight,  _after_  we got back from dinner, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. Unless you want it to,” he says quietly and Stiles lifts a hand, moving it down the slope of Derek’s jaw, nodding. “You’re sure?”

“I’m positive. I’ve wanted this for a while, Derek, and we can go out to dinner later, right?” Stiles bites down on his lip and drops his hand, sliding it down the front of his boyfriend’s shirt, wrapping his fingers around the hem. He lifts it slowly and gets it as far up Derek’s stomach as he can. “I want this if you do,” he whispers and his cheeks turn pink under Derek’s gaze.

Instead of getting a verbal answer, Stiles watches Derek straighten up and take his shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the corner before leaning down to kiss him again, harder this time. He gasps into the kiss and slides his hands along Derek’s torso, touching every inch of him he possibly can, opening his mouth for the other man’s tongue.

Derek gets one hand underneath Stiles’ shirt and rucks it up underneath his ribs, dragging his thumb along each bump. He kisses him harder, pressing him into the cushions with his own body, and pulls back only long enough to peel the shirt off of Stiles, throwing it somewhere toward the kitchen.

“Fuck,” he says and grins when Stiles arches his back, a hand scrabbling along the back of Derek’s head, pulling him down for another kiss. Derek lets Stiles set the pace and presses their chests together, running a hand along the smaller man’s side, hooking a thumb through one of his belt loops.

They kiss for a few more minutes and Derek pulls back to breathe, swallowing thickly as he drops down to press kisses to Stiles’ chest, moving to one of his nipples. He drags his teeth along the sensitive skin and bites down, grinning when Stiles groans and tugs his hair, cursing as he lifts his hips. Derek flicks the tip of his tongue against the hardened skin and sucks on it lightly before moving to the other, laughing when Stiles calls him a tease.

“I’m still a teenager and I  _can_  come without being touched if I have the right amount of stimulation,” he reminds Derek and swallows hard, dragging a hand through his hair as he splays the other between his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Just saying.”

Another laugh escapes and Derek pulls back, kissing the middle of Stiles’ chest. “Is that your subtle way of telling me to hurry the fuck up? Because, if it is, I’d say you need to be a little more patient,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue down between Stiles’ nipples and to his stomach, mouthing at the skin underneath his navel.

“I did my waiting,” Stiles mumbles and looks down, moving his hand along Derek’s hair again, letting it slip through his fingers. “I’ve been very patient and now you want to tease me before you actually fuck me. That’s not nice, Derek.”

“M’not always nice.” Grinning, Derek looks up through his bangs and bites at Stiles’ hip, moving his hands along the outsides of his thighs before moving them in, popping the button of his jeans quickly. “There will be  _plenty_  of time for you to tease me later,” he points out and Stiles huffs out a sigh, slumping back against the cushions.

Once Derek has Stiles’ jeans unbuttoned, he pulls the zipper down and sits up on his knees, hooking his pointer and middle fingers into the other man’s belt loops. He tugs the denim down Stiles’ legs and gets them down to his ankles, tugging them off one leg at a time before laying them on the floor in front of the couch. As soon as the jeans are out of the way, Derek leans down and kisses a trail across the waistband of Stiles’ boxers, biting at his hips again, smirking when he yelps.

Stiles huffs again and moves his hands to Derek’s shoulders, squeezing them. “Don’t you think it’s a little unfair that I’m practically naked and you’re still, you know, in your jeans?”

“I don’t think it’s unfair,” Derek replies and gives Stiles a lopsided grin before pulling back, sitting against his heels as he undoes his jeans. “But I guess I can level the playing field.”

“Oh  _god_ , please.” Stiles sits up and leans back on his elbows, watching as Derek pulls the zipper down at an unbearably slow pace and he groans. “Come on, I’m going to die over here,” he mumbles and swallows, his skin breaking out in a blush when the older man laughs.

Derek stands up once he’s gotten his pants undone and he pushes them down, toeing out of his boots before taking the jeans off, one leg at a time. He lets them fall to the floor, the button clanking against the hard wood, and he positions himself between Stiles’ legs again, leaning down to kiss him softly.

A quiet whimper leaves Stiles’ mouth and it muffles against Derek’s as he moves his hands along his boyfriend’s body, memorizing every line and every single dip, his fingers dragging across the sharp cut of his hips. He groans and roughly presses his tongue against Derek’s, slipping his fingertips underneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, moving it down until he touches Derek’s cock.

The angle is awkward and Derek’s underwear isn’t giving Stiles much room to do anything but he manages to get his hand around the base of the other man’s cock, stroking up slowly. He swallows every moan Derek makes and kisses him harder, breathing deeply through his nose as he drags his thumb across the head, teasing the slit a little.

Derek starts moving his hips slowly and the kiss becomes messy, their tongues moving against one another lazily before he pulls back. He licks his lips quickly and looks down at the man underneath of him, his eyes sliding shut when Stiles strokes down, squeezing his cock lightly. “Fuck,” he breathes and moves his hands to the arm of the couch, bracketing Stiles’ head.

“Do you want me to stop?” Stiles asks, dragging his teeth along his lower lip as he twists his wrist and strokes up, brushing the pad of his thumb along the crown. “Or maybe you want me to use my mouth instead.”

“ _Oh god_. Yeah, use your mouth.”

With a smirk, Stiles leans up and kisses across Derek’s chest lightly before biting down on his collarbone, sucking on the mark as he shoves the older man’s briefs past his ass and down to the middle of his thighs. He grins and pulls away, licking his lips as he slides down the length of the couch, settling himself underneath Derek, putting a hand on hip, wrapping the other around his cock.

Stiles leans in and gives the head a tentative lick, dragging the tip along the slit before going down, working his way to the base. It’s awkward and Stiles is half afraid that Derek is going to collapse on him, but he doesn’t stop what he’s doing — just licks a broad stripe up the underside of his boyfriend’s cock before taking the head into his mouth. 

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek breathes and he drops his head, watching Stiles bob his own before shutting his eyes tightly, gasping when he feels another inch of his cock slide into the other man’s mouth. He grips the arm of the couch tightly and holds himself up on shaky arms, determined not to fall on top of Stiles. He does, however, start to move his hips slightly, groaning when more of his cock slides easily into Stiles’ mouth. That perfect fucking mouth that Derek can’t stop staring at whenever they’re together and that feels amazing around him.

Grinning to himself, as much as he can, Stiles starts working on Derek’s cock and he bobs his head back and forth, splaying one hand against his ass, while the other wraps around the base of his shaft. He sinks down, taking most of Derek into his mouth, and starts sucking nice and slow, pulling off at an unbearably slow pace, which has Derek moaning his name. 

Derek can only take so much and he starts moving his hips more, fucking into Stiles’ mouth when he stops moving, feeling the head of his cock brush against his throat. He groans and tips his head back between his shoulders, working in a slow circle before pulling his cock out of Stiles’ mouth. Gasping, he gives himself a moment and shudders violently when Stiles starts to stroke him languidly, squeezing the base lightly. 

After a moment, Derek starts thrusting his hips toward Stiles’ face again and fucks his mouth harder than before, resisting the urge to put a hand on the back of his boyfriend’s head to hold him still. He is worried, though, that Stiles is going to gag on his cock but he isn’t complaining, not even when Derek’s all the way down his throat, and he thinks he’s going to come soon if he keeps this up.

When he pulls back again, Derek pushes himself so he’s sitting on his knees and he looks down at Stiles, who’s looking back at him with a smile, his lips red and swollen. ”C’mere,” he says and wraps a hand around his cock, stroking himself as Stiles sits up, their lips meeting in a rough kiss.

All Stiles can do is hold onto Derek’s biceps and squeeze them gently, moaning at the feeling of a hand on the nape of his neck, warm fingertips pressing into his skin roughly. He opens his mouth and shudders when he feels Derek’s tongue pressing against his own, pushing it back just as enthusiastically, flicking the tip against his boyfriend’s, smirking when he pulls back, both of them breathless.

“You gonna fuck me now?” Stiles asks and bats his eyelashes innocently, dragging his tongue across his lips quickly, smirking at the way Derek’s eyes follow the motion, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. “I’ll take that as a yes. You want me to finger myself open for you or do _you_ wanna get three fingers in me?” As he speaks, Stiles grabs one of Derek’s hands and runs his fingers along the length of the other’s, shivering when he hears Derek groan his name.

Derek swallows and closes his eyes. “I want to watch you get yourself ready for me but we have to do this in the bedroom. As much as I’d  _love_  to fuck you out here, I couldn’t handle watching my friends sit on the couch and have them not know what I’ve done on it,” he says and chuckles, leaning down to kiss Stiles quickly before pulling back. 

Nodding, Stiles watches Derek get off the couch and bites down on his lip when he takes his boxer briefs off, tossing them away. He moves over to lock the door and Stiles openly stares at his ass, groaning as he closes his eyes, giving himself a moment before standing, getting rid of his boxers, too. When Derek comes back, he holds a hand out to Stiles, who takes it eagerly, and the two of them go into his bedroom, the door shutting quietly behind them.

Stiles lets go of Derek’s hand and moves over to the bed, laying on the middle, spreading his legs as he looks at the older man, smiling. He watches Derek move over to the dresser and shivers, wrapping a hand around his cock, stroking it lazily as he follows his boyfriend’s every move. 

“Here,” Derek says and he tosses a bottle of lube at Stiles, who just manages to catch it before it hits him, before moving to sit on the edge of the bed, eyes darkened with lust.

A shiver runs down the length of Stiles’ spine and he pops the top on the lube, pouring some onto his fingers before tossing the bottle away. He bends his knees and presses his feet flat against the mattress, lifting his hips as he drops his hand underneath himself, pressing one finger against his entrance. Sliding the digit inside of him, Stiles hisses and screws his eyes shut, pressing it in all the way, gasping once it’s in to the last knuckle.

“S’been a while,” he admits and turns pink, chewing on his lower lip. He hasn’t fingered himself in a few weeks because it’s hard when you have a roommate and he can’t do it in the shower because, well, that’s a little weird. It’s going to take him a while to get used to the feeling again but Stiles doesn’t mind because he’s not doing this for pleasure - well, not really - but to get himself ready for Derek. Who has a big cock and, fuck, Stiles wants it inside of him right now.

Derek’s eyes rove over Stiles’ body and he nods. “Take your time,” he rasps and then clears his throat, moving a hand to his cock. He strokes himself slowly, almost like he has nothing to do but touch himself, and watches Stiles pull his finger out, pressing the second one against his rim.

The second digit slides in and Stiles arches his back, whimpering as he presses it in halfway before stilling both of them, breathing harshly. His chest rises and falls heavily for a moment before he presses both fingers in slowly, working them until they’re in to the last knuckle. Stiles moans Derek’s name, like he does whenever he jerks off or fingers himself, and starts to work the digits in and out, scissoring them slowly.

“Fuck, that’s so hot.” Derek’s words are breathless and Stiles moans, working his hips in a circle before pressing them back against his hand, fucking himself on the two digits. As he watches, Derek strokes himself a little harder and squeezes the base of his cock before moving his hand away, gripping both of his thighs, fingernails digging into the muscle.

Stiles takes a deep breath and pulls the fingers out, adding the third one. He goes as slow as possible, pressing the digits in at a pace that he’s most comfortable with and, a few moments later, he’s got all three inside of him. Clenching his eyes shut tightly, Stiles starts to work himself open, scissoring his fingers and twisting them, separating the digits slowly, his noises going from pained whimpers to broken moans, Derek’s name falling from his lips several times.

When he’s worked open enough, Stiles pulls his fingers out and whimpers at the empty feeling, dropping his hips down as he tilts his chin toward his chest, opening his eyes to look at Derek. He smiles and drags his tongue across his lips quickly, biting down on the lower one as he motions for Derek to come over. “How do you want me?”

“Like that,” Derek answers and he stands, moving to grab a condom from the dresser, opening it on his way back to the bed. He slides the latex over his cock and groans, making sure it’s snug at the bottom before crawling onto the mattress, fitting himself between Stiles’ legs. “You ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready. Fuck me, Derek.” As Stiles speaks, Derek grabs the lube and pours some onto his cock, stroking it in slowly before throwing the bottle away, not paying attention when it rolls off the edge of the mattress. “Please, Derek, I want your cock so fucking bad,” Stiles whimpers and Derek shudders, nodding as he comes forward, spreading the younger man’s legs.

Without saying a word, Derek puts Stiles’ thighs over his own and lifts his hips off the bed, stroking his cock slowly as he comes forward, pressing the head against the other’s entrance. He brushes his thumb along Stiles’ skin slowly as he pushes inside, groaning at the tight heat that surrounds him, stopping when his boyfriend lets out a pained whimper.

It takes a moment for Stiles to adjust and he nods when he’s ready again, his hands wrapped around Derek’s forearms as he continues to side into him slowly. He moans loudly when he feels his boyfriend bottom out and he feels full and wonderful and amazing and, holy shit, he’s not a virgin anymore. The thought puts a smile on his face and he looks up at Derek, rolling his hips slowly to tell him to keep going, not trusting his voice at the moment.

“You’re so  _tight_ ,” Derek grits out and Stiles laughs, breathlessly, before nodding his head and pushing back against the other man, gasping loudly. His fingernails dig into Derek’s skin and he rakes them up and down, pulling a little blood to the surface but neither of them are paying attention to that.

Derek pulls his cock out slowly and leaves just the head inside of Stiles, giving him a moment before pushing back in, sliding a hand up along his side, wrapping it just underneath his ribs. He holds on and hunches forward, feeling Stiles’ legs wrap around his waist as he leans down to kiss across his chest slowly, biting here and there. When he feels a hand in his hair, Derek starts to thrust in and out of Stiles slowly, his hips slapping against his ass as he bites down on the other’s collarbone, sucking on a mark.

“Fu — fuck, Derek, like that. Please,  _oh god_ , just — just like that.” Stiles babbles and moans in between words, his fingers tugging at Derek’s hair harder, his entire body thrumming with want and need and pure desire, everything washing over him at once. He feels relieved, too, that he and Derek are finally having sex and even though it does hurt a little, Stiles loves feeling his boyfriend’s cock inside of him.

Groaning loudly, Derek moves up and bites down on Stiles’ shoulder, snapping his hips forward when the man underneath him lets out a quiet scream, fingernails dragging down the back of his head. He sucks on the mark and continues to move against Stiles, rotating his hips slowly before pulling out, thrusting forward harder than before.

The room is growing hot and Derek can feel sweat drip down between his shoulders and along the back of his head, causing his hair to stick to his scalp whenever Stiles drags his hand down. He sucks on the mark on the other’s shoulder until he’s sure there’s going to be a bruise and pulls back, moving to the other side to leave an identical mark there.

Underneath him, Stiles is writhing and moaning, begging him to go harder and gasping when Derek gives in, his arms coming up under his shoulders. Derek grips onto Stiles’ shoulders tightly and starts to fuck him harder, the sound of slick skin slapping together filling the air, mixing with their moans and quiet grunts. The bed squeaks underneath them and Derek moves up to kiss Stiles roughly, swallowing every moan and whimper that rises from his throat.

Stiles pulls back as much as he can and whimpers, “Hurts.”

“What hurts?” Derek asks and slows his hips down, stilling them against Stiles’ ass, his cock buried inside the smaller man. “Do you want me to stop?” There’s panic in Derek’s voice and he’s about to pull out when he feels Stiles’ hands on his ass, holding him where he is.

“Give me a minute,” Stiles says and his voice is quiet, breathless, and it sounds a little pained, which makes Derek’s chest tighten. “I’m okay, just… you were fucking me a little too hard and it started to hurt.”

Derek swallows and drops his head down, pressing it against Stiles’. “I’m sorry,” he whispers and moves a hand from underneath Stiles’ shoulder to cup his jaw, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone slowly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stop? It’s okay if you do.”

“Mmm, I’m sure. It’s starting to go away just — stay still, please?” When Derek nods and kisses him, Stiles closes his eyes and whimpers into the other man’s mouth, moving a hand up to the back of his head. His ass hurts but it’s gone from a burning pain to a dull ache and he thinks he’s okay now, so he pushes back against Derek, smirking into the kiss when he gasps. “I’m okay,” he whispers when they ease apart and he moves his hand down the curve of Derek’s jaw, smiling.

Taking a deep breath, Derek nods and starts moving again, going slowly this time because he doesn’t want to hurt Stiles any more than he has. He already feels bad enough and he’s not even sure they should keep going but then Stiles is moaning his name and pushing back against him, asking Derek to go harder, and he complies.

As Derek continues to fuck him, Stiles moves a hand between them and wraps it around his cock, stroking up when Derek thrusts into him. He matches his boyfriend’s pace and strokes his cock quickly, thumbing across the head, groaning loudly when he feels his orgasm approaching. His muscles tighten around Derek and he moans, whimpering the other’s name, mixing it with curse words and loud “oh god”s. 

“I’m getting — getting so close, Derek. Pleaseplease make me come.” Stiles moans and babbles, saying things that he’ll likely forget later while he strokes his cock, moaning loudly when Derek thrusts into him one last time. They moan together and Stiles continues to pump his hand up and down his cock until he comes, nearly screaming Derek’s name as his orgasm hits. His hips stutter and Stiles’ eyes roll back behind his eyelids as he comes between them, getting it on Derek’s chest and stomach.

When Stiles’ orgasm hits, his muscles tighten around Derek and he groans, keeping his hips still until the other man stops coming and, once he does, starts thrusting into him once more. He knows that he’s not going to last long and he rotates his hips, dragging his cock out of Stiles before pushing back in, grunting with each and every thrust. Stiles is tight and hot and feels amazing around his cock and Derek screws his eyes shut, fucking him harder for another moment before he comes.

Derek’s hips stutter forward and still against Stiles’ ass as he comes. “Fuck, Stiles, you feel — feel so fucking amazing,” he breathes and hunches forward, completely spent after coming. As he comes down from his orgasm, Derek swallows hard and breathes heavily, nuzzling against Stiles’ shoulder for a moment.

As soon as he can move, Derek pulls out of Stiles and takes the condom off, tying it off before throwing it into the trashcan beside the nightstand. He smiles down at Stiles and leans down to kiss him softly, moving down to clean up a few drops of come that got on his chest, smirking when Stiles groans.

“Go clean yourself up,” Stiles mumbles and pushes at the top of Derek’s head, moving his hands to lay on the bed beside him, looking at the other man with a lazy smile. 

“Are you okay?” Derek asks and Stiles nods his head, biting down on his lower lip as he closes his eyes again, humming. He breathes in deeply and Derek shakes his head, laughing as he stands up to go into the hallway, slipping out of the room quietly before heading down to the bathroom. Once he’s in there, he grabs a towel and wets it, cleaning the come off his skin before drying himself, taking the towel back into his bedroom to clean Stiles up.

Stiles is half asleep when Derek comes back in and he blinks his eyes open when he feels the wet fabric against his skin, grumbling something unintelligible. He licks his lips and holds his arms open when Derek’s done cleaning him and says, “Come lay down. M’sleepy.”

“You’re going to be one of those people that take naps after sex, aren’t you?”

“Probably. S’long as I get to nap with you, I’m fine.” Stiles gives Derek a sleepy smile and he shakes his head, moving to lay beside his boyfriend, wrapping both arms around his waist. 

Derek breathes in deeply and kisses Stiles’ shoulder, smirking when he sees the start of a pretty nice hickey on his skin. “Did you enjoy that?”

“Mmm,” Stiles answers and turns over in Derek’s arms, curling up against his chest, yawning loudly. “I’m gonna nap and then we’ll go out.”

“Or we can just stay in tonight. Your ass might be sore and I don’t want to make you go out if you’re still hurting,” Derek murmurs and brushes his nose along Stiles’ hair, kissing his forehead. 

Yawning again, Stiles nods his head and ducks it underneath Derek’s chin. “Okay,” he agrees and kisses his boyfriend’s chest before letting himself doze off. He’s asleep in no time and Derek manages to shift around enough to pull the blanket over them, his arms wrapped around Stiles’ waist.

It isn’t long before Derek falls asleep, too, and he lets the sound of Stiles’ soft breathing lull him to sleep. He naps peacefully and happily with Stiles next to him, shifting a little and mumbling in his sleep. The last thing Derek thinks about before he drifts off is how happy he is with Stiles and how glad he is that they waited for a while before having sex.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part one of a two-chapter part. To further explain: I couldn't stop writing and, before I knew it, this chapter got away from me and it was a little lengthy. So I decided to split it into two chapters -- or parts -- and I hope no one minds!
> 
> Also, I apologize for any mistakes you find.

Winter break is upon them and it’s the last day before they all go their separate ways. Stiles is packing the last of his things while Scott and Allison sit on his bed, alternating between making out and talking, proclaiming their love for one another and being generally nauseating. 

Just as he puts the last shirt in his bag, Stiles hears a knock on the door and turns to watch it open, smiling brightly when he sees Derek standing in the doorway. His friends don’t seem to notice their guest and Stiles looks at them for a moment, sees their faces are locked together, and bounds across the room, throwing himself at Derek.

“I just came to say goodbye,” Derek says as he wraps his arms around Stiles, resting his head against the smaller man’s. 

“But it’s not really  _goodbye_  is it? You’re coming up to Beacon Hills to spend a couple of days with me next week.” As he speaks, Stiles drops his head and nuzzles his face against Derek’s neck, inhaling deeply. His boyfriend smells amazing — like Old Spice body wash and some cologne that he never caught the name of, but Derek said was his favourite.

Derek laughs and nods, kissing the side of Stiles’ head. “I’ll be up there as soon as I make my appearances with Peter, Laura, and her fiance,” he replies, brushing his nose along Stiles’ hair. “Did you tell your dad that I’m coming?”

“About that…”

“ _Stiles_.” Derek sighs.

“ _What_! It’s not like he asked and I figured I’d break it to him gently,” Stiles mumbles as he pulls away, moving his hands to play with the bottom of Derek’s leather jacket. “So, I’ll tell him  _after_  I’m all settled in.”

Sighing, Derek lifts his hands and cups Stiles’ face. “Just tell him before I get there so I don’t surprise him and he doesn’t come after me with a shotgun,” he whispers, his thumbs dragging across Stiles’ cheekbones.

A smile breaks across Stiles’ face and he looks at Derek before leaning in to kiss his lips gently, moving both of his hands to the back of the other man’s head. His fingers tangle in the soft, dark locks and they slide between the digits as Derek kisses Stiles back, nipping at his upper lip.

They kiss until someone — Scott — clears their throat and Stiles growls, pressing his forehead against Derek’s, laughing. “I forgot we had an audience,” he mumbles.

“We were taking a break to see you two sucking face,” Scott says, sounding like he’s disgusted, and then he laughs. “You leaving already, Derek?”

Derek looks at Scott and nods his head slowly. “My uncle wants me to come home a day early so I can help get the house ready for my sister and her fiance’s stay.”

“Your sister’s getting married? That’s awesome!” Allison smiles at Derek and pushes her curls away from her face, tucking them behind her ear as she turns to face the pair at the door. Stiles has come to really love Allison in the past four months and she’s become a best friend to him, as much as Scott was… but looking at her makes him miss Lydia. 

A phone buzzes and makes a pinging noise; all four pairs of eyes look around until Allison lifts her phone and apologizes for the noise. The guys relax and Stiles turns back to Derek, smiling at him as he kisses the tip of his nose.

“I should go,” Derek say and Stiles frowns, clinging to his boyfriend for a moment before pulling back. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Fine, yeah, go and leave me here with Mister and Missus Kisses-A-Lot,” Stiles grumbles and laughs when Derek peppers his face in kisses, squeezing his hips lightly. “Go, grumpy.”

Derek frowns and pecks his boyfriend’s lips, mumbling against them, “I’m not grumpy.”

Rolling his eyes, Stiles shoves playfully at Derek’s chest and laughs, following him out into the hall. He waves to the older man and leans against the wall, watching him disappear down the hall and through the doors.

When Stiles comes back into the room, Allison is gathering her things and he looks at her, eyebrows pulled together. “Wait — you’re leaving too?”

“My dad decided to come a day earlier so he could see the school and meet Scott,” she explains and Stiles laughs, imagining Scott meeting Allison’s father, whom she has shown Stiles several pictures of. He looks intimidating and Stiles is suddenly glad that  _he’s_  not the one meeting her dad.

“He’s going to eat me  _alive_ , dude.” The look on Scott’s face makes Stiles’ laughter die away and he shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively as he says that Mr. Argent wasn’t going to do that. “Dude,” Scott says, his eyes bugging out, “the guy knows how to use every gun known to man and Allison says he’s, like, a crazy good shot.”

Allison giggles and slings her bag over her shoulder. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” she says and pecks Scott’s lips. “Plus, he can’t have a gun on campus, so he isn’t going to shoot you.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t break your neck for deflowering his angel,” Stiles offers and smirks when Scott flips him off. 

Scott changes into another outfit and he leaves with Allison after promising Stiles he’d be back for one last video game session before the two of them went their own ways.

Once his friends are gone, Stiles moves to lay across the middle of his bed, stretching his arms above his head, fingers touching the wall behind him. He stares at the ceiling and listens to the people moving through the hallway, chewing on his lower lip. How was he supposed to go a week without seeing Derek? It was madness!

At some point, Stiles falls asleep and wakes up to the door slamming and Scott coming into the room. He doesn’t say anything, just goes over to his bed and flops down on it, the springs squeaking loudly. Stiles sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, frowning at his friend.

“How’d it go?” Stiles asks and yawns, scratching his jaw lightly.

Scott rolls over onto his back and turns his head toward Stiles. “It was going fine until he brought up one of Allison’s old boyfriends and had to say how well  _they_  were doing in school,” he answers.

“Oh, dude…”

“Then he said that they invited him over for dinner and it was almost like he was trying to get Allison to dump me or something,” Scott grumbles.

Stiles frowns and stands up, going over to the entertainment center before bending down to turn the X-Box on. He grabs the controllers and comes over to Scott’s bed, flopping down on the end of it, holding a controller out to his friend. 

“Know what a good way of getting your mind off that?” Stiles asks, waving the controller around until Scott sits up and takes it, mumbling ‘what’ under his breath. “Playing Call of Duty and killing some motherfucking zombies.”

A laugh bubbles up from Scott’s throat and he nods. “Alright,” he says and they wait for the menu screen to come up. Stiles nudges his shoulder against the other’s and laughs when Scott shoves him back, playfully.

The two of them order pizza using the last bit of the money Stiles got from tutoring and they stay in their dorm room all night. It’s just shy of one in the morning when they finally get to bed and Stiles can’t fall asleep from how excited he is about going back home and spending three whole weeks with his dad, Lydia, and Derek.

The clock reads 2:07 when Stiles looks at it last before falling asleep.

*****

It takes Stiles all day to drive back to Beacon Hills and he’s honestly exhausted when he gets there. His feet are dragging when he walks into the house and he screams when Lydia jumps out of the living room, yelling his name.

“Jesus  _Christ!_ ” Stiles yelps, putting a hand over his heart, feeling how hard it’s beating and, yep, he’s sure he’s going to have a heart attack.

Lydia smirks and comes over, folding him into her arms. “I’m sorry I scared you,” she says, though her voice is unconvincing, and Stiles wraps his arms around her shoulders. 

“Where’s dad?” 

“At work,” Lydia replies and pulls away, smiling brightly at Stiles. “You look good, college boy!”

A blush creeps along Stiles’ cheeks and he bites his lip. “Thanks,” he mutters, embarrassed, and takes a moment to look at her. She’s wearing a dark blue dress with a gray cardigan over it, black tights, and a pair of boots that come up to her knees. “You look sexy, whoa.”

“Now, now, you have a boyfriend, Stiles, you can’t flirt with me anymore.”

“I can flirt with you all I want,” he mumbles playfully and leans down to kiss her cheek, pulling back with a smile. “Please tell me there’s food in the house.”

Lydia laughs and shakes her head, her curls bouncing slightly. “I think there’s something in the fridge,” she says and loops her arm with his, leading him into the kitchen. “So, how was the ride?”

“Fine,” Stiles lies; he almost got into three accidents on the highway and had to drink three Monsters to keep himself up. “I wanna eat and then go see dad before coming back. I’m exhausted and think I might sleep for five days straight.”

The two of them laugh together and Stiles lets go of Lydia’s arm to go to the fridge, opening the door quickly. His stomach growls when he sees a paper bag with the logo of his favourite burger joint stamped on the front. 

Once Stiles grabs the bag, he opens it quickly and puts the burger and fries in the microwave, punching a few buttons. It starts to make it’s rotation around and he takes his phone out of his pocket to text Derek, letting him know that he got home safe and sound.

Stiles and Lydia sit together at the table, the two of them talking while he scarfs down the burger his dad bought for him. He goes upstairs and changes clothes when he’s done, meeting Lydia outside at her car. They talk more on the way to the police station and Stiles tells her all about the people he met at college.

The parking lot at the station is almost deserted and Stiles spots his dad’s cruiser parked near the entrance, smiling at the familiar SUV. He unbuckles himself and gets out, waiting for Lydia only to have her roll the window down and apologize. She says her mom wants her home and that she’ll see him tomorrow, for sure, and they say goodbye.

When Lydia pulls out of the parking lot, Stiles tugs his hood over his head and shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, walking toward the door. He opens it and walks into the station, resisting the urge to run down the hall and into his father’s office.

Stiles walks past the front desk and waves to the woman sitting behind it, smiling when she says it’s nice to see him. He continues down the hallway and hums to himself, stopping in front of a door that had his father’s name written across it. With his heart hammering, Stiles knocks on the glass and opens the door, stepping into the room with a grin.

John Stilinski looks up when the door opens and smiles. “Stiles,” he says and pushes away from his desk, walking around it to pull his son into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I wasn’t home when you got there.”

“Ah, it’s alright,” Stiles replies and squeezes his dad before pulling away, the smile on his face never leaving. “You look good —  _healthy_. Are you still eating like you’re supposed to?”

“You know I am, kid.”

After four months of not seeing his father, Stiles is happy to finally be able to see him and wants to hug him for hours but resists the urge to do so. He claps the sheriff’s shoulders and then moves to sit in the chair in front of his desk, leaning back against it.

“So,” John says as he sits across the desk from Stiles. “Was Lydia waiting for you at the house?”

Stiles laughs and nods quickly. “She scared the shit out of me,” he says.

“I was going to warn you but she told me not to.”

“That’s alright, I’m still alive, so I didn’t die from fright.” Licking his lips, Stiles shifts to the edge of the chair and peeks at the papers his dad had been working on when he came in. “Big case?”

Raising a brow, John gathers the papers and stuffs them into a folder, shaking his head. “I can’t give you any details,” he say, using his sheriff voice.

“Fine,” Stiles huffs and folds his arms on the edge of the desk, leaning down to rest his chin on top of his forearm. “Hey, dad?”

“Hmm?”

Taking a deep breath, Stiles looks from the folder on the desk between the two of them to his father, chewing on the edge of his lip. He had told the sheriff about Derek not long after they got together but he hadn’t told him that his boyfriend was coming to visit. 

“I need to tell you something kin of important,” he says, quietly.

“You aren’t pregnant,” John says and grins when Stiles scoffs out a  _‘dad please’_  before leaning forward on his elbows. “Then what is it? Drugs? Alcohol? Do you have an STD?”

Stiles makes a noise and brings his hands up, covering his face. “Dude, no! There are no drugs or alcohol — or any substance, for that matter — or STDs.”

“Then what is it, Stiles?”

“You know Derek, my boyfriend, right?” Stiles asks and drops his hands to watch his father nod, chewing on his lip. “Well, turns out he doesn’t live very far from Beacon Hills and he’s going to be stopping by next week to spend some time with me.”

John is quiet for a moment before he says, “Where’s he staying?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that — he’s staying in a hotel.”

“Is that all you had to tell me?”

Pursing his lips together, Stiles nods his head slowly. “Yep, pretty much all I had to say. Except for, you know, I missed you,” he says.

“Uh-huh.” John laughs and picks the folder up before opening a drawer, dropping the folder into it. “Let’s go home, kid.”

Yes, good. Stiles really wants to go home and spend time with his father in a place that doesn’t house criminals. Not that there were many in Beacon Hills but, still. 

Stiles stands up and watches his dad grab his jacket, shrugging into it as they make their way out into the hallway. As they walk, Stiles babbles about his drive from school and even tells his dad about the idiots that almost caused him to get into an accident.

The talk keeps flowing between them as they go home and they spend another hour catching up before going to sleep. When Stiles lays down in his childhood room and in the bed he left behind four months before, he thinks about all the things he has planned for his vacation and falls asleep happy, but missing Derek.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the conclusion of the previous chapter and I hope you guys enjoy it. :)
> 
> I, as always, apologize for any mistakes you find.

For the first week he’s home, Stiles splits his time equally between Lydia and his father. He hangs out with his best friend when his dad’s at work and vice versa, the homesickness he’d felt from being away from them fading immediately.

When it’s time for Derek to come, Stiles is bursting out of his skin with excitement and he changes outfits three times before Lydia tells him that what he’s wearing is good enough.

“I’m so nervous,” he mumbles as he stands in front of the window, keeping an eye out for Derek’s Camaro. Stiles pulls the ends of his sleeves down over his hands and sighs, leaning his face against the cool glass.

Lydia joins him and wraps an arm around his waist. “Calm down.”

“That’s easy for  _you_  to say! Your boyfriend isn’t coming to meet your father and best friend and be interrogated by the sheriff.”

“Everything is going to be fine, Stiles,” Lydia sighs and leans up to peck his cheek, leaving a lip gloss smear on his skin. She laughs and wipes it away before rubbing her fingers against his sweatshirt.

Stiles makes a face and turns to glare at Lydia. “Did you really?”

“Yep.” 

“Gross,” he says and laughs, hugging her close before letting go. When he does, Stiles looks out the window and spots the sleek, black Camaro just as it pulls into the driveway. “Oh god.”

“What?” Lydia asks and before Stiles can answer, turns to look out the window, whistling as she watches Derek climb out of the car. “He’s hotter in person than in the pictures you showed me.”

Huffing, Stiles shakes his head and moves away from the window, nearly running to answer the door before Derek can knock and the sheriff comes in to get it. He swallows, turns the knob, and opens the door with a wide smile, looking at Derek up and down.

“I missed you,” is the first thing out of Derek’s mouth and Stiles blushes, motioning for his boyfriend to come inside. “Nice house.”

“Thanks,” Stiles replies, shutting the door before turning around and leaning against it. He opens his mouth to say something just as Lydia walks into the foyer and he swallows, hoping she doesn’t say anything to embarrass him.

Lydia smiles sweetly and says, “It’s Derek, right?”

“Yeah,” Derek replies and he smiles just as brightly as her, “and I’m guessing you’re Lydia?”

“The one and only.”

Stiles clears his throat and comes forward, looping an arm around Derek’s waist. “My dad is in the kitchen, perfecting his  _already perfect_  world famous chili.”

“Chili,” Derek says as he wraps his arm around Stiles’ shoulders, “just so happens to be my favourite.”

Without another word, Stiles pulls Derek toward the kitchen and Lydia follows behind them, the sound of her heels clacking against the floor the only thing that tells Stiles that she’s coming. The kitchen smells amazing and he groans, squeezing Derek as they walk over to the table where the sheriff is sitting with his newspaper. He looks up when he hears Lydia clear her throat and smiles.

“Dad,” Stiles says nervously, “this is Derek, my boyfriend.”

Beside him, Derek is smiling and extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Stilinski,” he offers.

“Call me John; Mr. Stilinski is my father.” John laughs and stands, putting his hand in Derek’s, squeezing it before letting go. “I hope you like homemade chili.”

“I love it, sir.”

The sheriff and Stiles share a look before John says, “You don’t have to call me sir, Derek. John is fine — or sheriff, if you’re more comfortable calling me that.”

“Sorry, John,” Derek says, like he’s testing the name out, and Stiles laughs, thinking that this might not be as bad as he thinks it will be.

“Let’s go sit in the living room while the chili cooks,” John suggests and they all follow Lydia into the other room. She perches on the edge of the couch and Stiles sits beside her, with Derek on his other side. The sheriff sits in his chair and sighs, looking at the three on the couch.

Lydia raises an eyebrow and turns to Derek. “So,” she says and laughs before adding, “tell us more about you.”

“ _Lydia_ ,” Stiles hisses and whimpers when she kicks his ankle.

“Hush,” she says and smiles brightly.

Derek laughs nervously and puts his hand in Stiles’. “I’m a junior and I’m  a major in computer sciences,” he says and pauses for a moment, clearly thinking. “I have an older sister named Laura and our parents died when we were younger, so our uncle took care of us.”

“Oh,” John says and frowns. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” Derek replies, smiling. “Laura and I have always had each other so we were never really alone, even when we felt like we were.”

The four of them fall silent and Derek lifts his free hand, scrubbing it along the back of his neck. Stiles squeezes the hand in his own and smiles, nodding at him slowly, encouraging him to keep going.

Derek swallows and continues. “My family is wealthy but I try not to boast about that too much. Peter, my uncle, is really big in the business world and he’s been the only father figure I’ve known for most of my life.”

“What’s your family’s last name?” John asks.

“Hale,” Derek answers and bites his lip.

The sheriff’s eyes go wide and he whistles. “Wow.”

“Dad…” Stiles says and looks at his father. “Derek’s more than just money, a pretty face, and a nice car.”

“Thanks, Stiles,” Derek whispers, smiling as he leans in to kiss his boyfriend’s cheek, squeezing his hand. “My two best friends in the world are named Jackson and Danny. They’re going into the same profession as I am and they’re like brothers to me.”

John nods and smiles, leaning back in his chair. “Have you ever been arrested, Derek?”

“ _Dad_!”

“It’s a valid question, Stiles.”

Derek laughs nervously and shakes his head. “I’ve never been arrested for anything,” he answers and brushes his thumb along Stiles’. “I don’t do drugs and when I drink, I do it responsibly. No drinking and driving or giving alcohol to minors.” 

Before Stiles can snort about that, Lydia asks, “Are you planning on staying in California after you graduate or were you going to move?”

“I was thinking about hanging around California for a while.” Derek smiles and turns to look at Stiles, who blushes the moment his boyfriend’s eyes meet his own. 

“I have an important question,” John says as he leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees, pointing at Derek when he turns to look at him, grinning. “Dodgers, Giants, or Angels?”

A grin spreads across Derek’s face and he says, “Giants.”

“Good man!” The sheriff laughs and lightly claps his hand on Derek’s knee. “What about your football team?”

“Oh, the 49ers, definitely.”

John nods and keeps smiling. “Good, now I don’t have to worry about you watching games with me and Stiles and rooting for the other team,” he says.

“Stiles watches football?” Derek asks, raising a brow; Stiles shrugs and then grins. “I thought you were just into lacrosse.”

“Ah, no, I’m into football and hockey, too.”

Derek leans in and kisses Stiles until John clears his throat. They ease apart and Derek blushes, apologizing quietly. The conversation continues easily and Stiles listens to Derek answer every one of his father and Lydia’s questions.

*****

After an hour of interrogation, Lydia leaves the boys to their dinner and they move into the kitchen to eat. John continues to ask Derek questions, mostly about school and what a computer scientist does, along with what kind of classes he takes. 

Dinner goes by quickly and, to Stiles’ surprise, it’s not a complete disaster. It’s the opposite, actually, and the sheriff gets called into work shortly after they get done eating. On his way out of the door, John tells Derek and Stiles to behave before leaving.

Stiles waits until he hears the roar of his dad’s cruiser die away before pushing Derek against the kitchen counter, kissing him roughly. The dirty dishes get abandoned and Derek moves his hands down, wrapping them around Stiles’ hips, pulling their bodies closer together.

Whimpering quietly, Stiles opens his mouth and sighs when he feels the tip of Derek’s tongue press against his own. He moves a hand to the back of his boyfriend’s head and tangles his fingers in the soft, dark locks, giving them a sharp tug.

A groan settles in Derek’s chest as he pulls away, lifting a hand from Stiles’ hip to his face, cupping his jaw lightly. He breathes in slowly and smiles, leaning down to press another kiss to the younger man’s lips, this one softer than the other.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Stiles mumbles when they ease apart and he doesn’t wait for Derek’s answer, just grabs his hand and leads him up the stairs, toward his room.

When they get upstairs, Stiles takes Derek to his room and opens the door, dropping his boyfriend’s hand before going to lay on the bed, sprawling out on the mattress. He smiles at Derek and opens his arms, beckoning the older man to join him.

Derek shuts the door behind him and toes out of his boots, laying them aside before coming closer, looking around. The room is decorated almost exactly like Stiles’ dorm room and he shakes his head, laughing as he brings his attention back to his boyfriend.

“I have to tell you something,” Derek says as he climbs onto the bed, holding himself above Stiles, smiling.

“You aren’t breaking up with me, are you?” There’s panic in Stiles’ voice and Derek stares at him, his forehead furrowing as he shakes his head quickly. “Oh, okay, good. That’d be a shitty thing to do right now.”

A laugh bubbles up from Derek’s throat and he sighs, leaning down to kiss Stiles’ lips gently. He’s been waiting for the perfect moment to tell the other man how he feels about him and he feels like right now is the time do that. They’re both happy and alone, with no one to interrupt them, and Derek draws in a deep breath.

When he exhales, he says, “I love you.”

Stiles stares at Derek with wide eyes, his mouth open. “What?”

“I love you,” Derek repeats, his heart thumping behind his ribs. He doesn’t think that Stiles is going to say it back and he thinks, for a split second, that he made a mistake.

A long, drawn out moment passes before he says, “Stiles? Say something —  _anything_  — please.”

When Stiles’ brain stops short circuiting, he leans up and kisses Derek’s lips roughly, cupping either side of his face. He pulls back with a smile and brushes their noses together, sighing contentedly. 

“I love you too,” he says, finally, and Derek grins. “What took you so long to say it?”

Derek licks his lips and shrugs. “I wanted to wait for the perfect time. You’re lucky I didn’t wait until Christmas.”

“ _Oh god_ ,” Stiles laughs and brushes his thumbs over Derek’s stubble, shaking his head. “I’m glad you didn’t wait that long.”

“Me too.” 

Without saying another word, Derek leans down to kiss Stiles slowly, dropping down onto his elbows, bracketing the teenager in. Their bodies fit perfectly together and Derek shifts so he can slip his knee between Stiles’ thighs. 

They kiss languidly for a while and Derek pulls back so they can breathe, looking down at Stiles with a lazy grin. Stiles smiles back at him and runs his fingers through Derek’s hair, sighing.

“My dad’s going to be gone for a while,” he murmurs.

“Mmm,” Derek hums, turning to kiss Stiles’ wrist. “Are you suggesting we have a little fun while your dad is at work?”

Stiles nods slowly and leans up, his lips ghosting over Derek’s. “That,” he whispers and moves his hand down to Derek’s ass, “is  _exactly_  what I’m suggesting.”

A yelp leaves Derek’s throat when Stiles squeezes his ass and he moans, biting his lower lip before pulling back. He pops the button on his jeans and scrambles off the bed, pushing the denim down his legs. Once they’re off, Derek steps out of them and lifts his shirt, tossing it onto the floor somewhere.

“Now,” he says and motions to Stiles, “you.”

Lifting his hips slightly, Stiles undoes his own jeans and works them down, kicking them away once he’s gotten them off. He sits up and pulls his sweatshirt over his head, throwing it over the edge of the mattress before leaning back on his hands.

Derek will never get tired of seeing Stiles naked and he stares, running a hand along the middle of his stomach, pressing it over the front of his boxer briefs.

“Derek?” Stiles asks, his eyes locking on the other’s.

“Hmm?”

Stiles bites his lip and sits up, crossing his legs. “I want to do something different,” he mumbles.

“Okay,” Derek replies, moving over to kneel on the bed in front of his boyfriend. “What do you want to do?”

“I…” Stiles trails off, biting his lip harder, and blushes. “I want to — I really wanna finger you while  I suck your cock.”

All of the breath seems to come out of Derek at once and he swallows at the lump in his throat, watching Stiles intently. The teenager looks back at him and there’s a flush going across his cheeks and, fuck, how in the hell is Derek supposed to say no to  _that_?

“It’s cool if you don’t want to,” Stiles says, when Derek takes too long to answer him, and he fidgets on the bed, picking at the sheets. “I just thought it’d be fun.”

Derek breathes deeply through his nose and leans in to press a kiss against Stiles’ collarbone, biting at it lightly. “I want to do it,” he whispers and kisses up to Stiles’ ear, breathing gently against it. 

“Seriously?”

“Mmm,” Derek hums, his breath falling hot  against the shell of Stiles’ ear.

A groan escapes and Stiles moves his hands to Derek’s hips, gripping them tightly before moving him onto the bed. Once he has his boyfriend on the mattress, Stiles curls his hands around the waistband of Derek’s boxer briefs and tugs them down slowly.

The fabric slides down easily and Stiles pulls it off, spreading Derek’s thighs before moving off the bed. He silently prays that the bottle of lube he’d stashed in the nightstand drawer is still there and opens the drawer slowly, expecting to see everything missing.

But the lube is right there, where Stiles left it, and he picks the bottle up before going back to the bed. He settles between Derek’s legs, popping the top on the lube and pouring some onto his fingers.

“You trust me?” Stiles asks.

Derek nods, his eyes hooded and lip caught between his teeth. “I do,” he breathes and bends his knees, planting his feet flat on the mattress, legs spread wide for Stiles.

Taking in the view, Stiles chews on the edge of his lip and moves his hand underneath Derek, circling his rim with one finger. They’ve never done this before — never even talked about it, really — so Stiles knows that he needs to go slow, to ensure that he doesn’t hurt Derek.

When the tip of Stiles’ finger presses against him, Derek hisses and bows his back, tipping his head against the pillow. It burns and hurts but it’s not unpleasant, just… feels strange.

“Derek?” Stiles’ voice is soft and Derek nods, focusing on it. “Are you okay?”

Licking his lips, Derek nods and says, “M’good.”

Stiles breathes slowly and nods, pushing his finger in all the way. Derek is tight and hot and, fuck, Stiles wants nothing more than to fuck him right now. But they’ll save that for another time.

The entire length of Stiles’ finger slips inside Derek and he whimpers, sheets tangled in his hands. He breathes in and out slowly, pushing back against Stiles’ hand before asking for another finger.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Derek gasps and looks at Stiles, smiling. “C’mon, gimme another.”

A laugh rises from Stiles’ throat as he pulls his finger out and adds the second one, pushing into Derek. The muscle stretches around him and it’s like nothing Stiles has ever felt, so he tries to savor it as much as he can.

When both fingers slide in all the way, Stiles gives Derek a moment to adjust before separating them slowly. A loud, high-pitched whine leaves the older man’s throat and he pants, hips canting up them moving back.

“Shit,” Derek rasps, licking his lips quickly.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Derek laughs and shakes his head. “Keep going.”

With that encouragement, Stiles starts moving his fingers in and out, crooking them slightly so he can find Derek’s prostate. When he hears the other man cry out and feels his muscles tighten around him, Stiles knows he found it and grins proudly.

“Does it feel good?” Stiles asks, curious to know how Derek’s feeling.

Humming, Derek moved his hips against Stiles’ hand and gasps when his fingers hit his prostate again. “Feels… amazing, Stiles.”

Stiles grins an leans down without a word, licking a stripe across the head of Derek’s cock. He makes a smug noise in the back of his throat when his boyfriend whines his name and continues to finger him, pushing both digits in all the way before dragging them out.

“Oh,” Derek gasps, his hands going to the back of Stiles’ head. “ _Oh_  — oh fuck, Stiles, please.”

Moving his free hand up, Stiles wraps it around Derek’s cock and holds onto the base as he seals his lips around the head. He sucks slowly, teasing the head and slit with the tip of his tongue, dragging it around the crown. Stiles opens his mouth and takes more of Derek, sucking hard as he starts fingering him a little faster.

The combination of Stiles’ mouth on him and the fingers inside of him has Derek moaning loudly, hips bucking forward and then back. He screws his eyes shut tightly and draws in a ragged breath, his fingers dragging through Stiles’ short hair, gripping it.

Then Stiles is pressing a third finger against his entrance and the burn starts to feel good. Derek shivers and pushes back against Stiles’ hand, silently begging for more, to which the younger man obliges. 

Derek’s back bows again and he lifts off the bed, crying out Stiles’ name and gasping, feeling his orgasm approach quickly. Too quickly for his liking, actually, but Derek is on cloud nine right now and he doesn’t care if he comes too soon.

Stiles smirks and starts sucking harder, relaxing his throat before taking the entire length of Derek’s cock into his mouth. The head brushes against the back of his throat and Stiles gags a little, pulling off just until he’s ready to go again. He takes Derek back into his mouth and sucks hard, fingering the older man and spreading his fingers as wide as he can, listening to Derek’s breath hitch.

“Fuck, Stiles, I’m gonna — ” Derek’s cut off by a loud moan and his body twists, his hands tightening in Stiles’ hair. He feels hot all over and there’s a fire in the pit of his stomach, radiating below. His orgasm is close, he knows it, and he gasps, whining Stiles’ name. Gonna… gonna come soon, Stiles.”

Humming around the cock in his mouth, Stiles doubles his efforts and twists his fingers inside of Derek, fucking him harder. His own cock is throbbing in his boxers and he could come untouched just from the noises coming from Derek’s mouth, but he isn’t thinking about himself right now.

All Stiles wants is for Derek to have an awesome orgasm.

It takes a few more pumps of Stiles’ fingers and a few more tricks with his tongue to make Derek come. When he does, he moans loudly, the noise tapering off into something akin to a human version of a wolf’s howl. His hips thrust forward, toward Stiles’ mouth, and he gasps brokenly.

Stiles swallows all of Derek’s come, pulling off of his cock with a grin, licking his lips slowly. He pulls his fingers out carefully, mumbling apologies whenever Derek hisses until they’re free. Huffing, Stiles sits back on his heels and shoves his hand down underneath the waistband of his boxers.

“Stiles,” Derek moans and drops his body onto the bed, blinking to look at the other, groaning loudly. “Come for me.”

That spurs Stiles on and he growls, stroking his cock fast until it starts to hurt and he whimpers. Straightening up, he pushes his boxers down and grabs the lube, pouring some into the palm of his dry hand. He wraps it around his cock, strokes, and starts fucking his fist.

He watches Derek until his eyes flutter shut, feeling too heavy for him to keep them open, and he gasps. The sounds of Derek’s broken breathing have Stiles moaning, twisting his wrist as he strokes his cock quickly.

Stiles groans and opens his eyes, looking at Derek’s body. “Fuck, oh god, you’re gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous, Der —  _Derek_ ,” he gasps, letting his eyelashes flutter, hiding his eyes.

“Think about fucking me,” Derek says, his voice broken, “and me moaning your name, begging for more. You’ve got me on my knees, Stiles, your cock inside of me, filling me up.”

“Derek…”

“Yeah, come on. You know you want to fuck me,” he moans.

Screwing his eyes shut, Stiles continues to stroke himself and it takes a few more times before he comes, gasping loudly. Derek’s name leaves his mouth in a broken moan and he slumps forward, hips stuttering as he comes, getting most of it on the bed, though a few ropes land on Derek.

They both pant, though Stiles’ are louder, and Derek watches him carefully, a lazy smile on his face. When Stiles comes down from his orgasm, he moves to lay on the mattress beside Derek and leans in to kiss him.

After a few minutes, Stiles laughs and says, “We need to clean up.”

“Not now,” Derek replies, his eyes closed and his body relaxed. His ass hurts a little, he’ll admit that, but he wants to stay in bed with Stiles for a little longer before they get up. Though, Derek thinks, a shower would be nice.

Later that night, after they’ve both taken a shower, Stiles strips the bed of it’s dirty sheets and replaces them. He climbs into bed with Derek, snuggling up to his boyfriend and laying his head over the older man’s heart, listening to it beat.

Winter break, as it turns out, isn’t so bad and Stiles is looking forward to going back to school, where he and Derek have his whole apartment to themselves. They don’t have to sneak around and they don’t have to worry about Stiles’ dad walking on them having sex.

And, Stiles thinks as he falls asleep, winter break is perfect because Derek finally told Stiles how he felt and nothing could top that.


End file.
